Fools Like Us
by everlynstia
Summary: Ever since that break up nine years ago, Lizzie's kept her heart under lock and key. So when Darcy suddenly re-enters her life, is Lizzie prepared to forgive him? Only a slap, a gunshot and food poisoning will tell! But what's Lizzie hiding? Modern P
1. Welcome to Perigee Delta

**FOOLS LIKE US  
**

_**Disclaimer:** Believe me, if I were Jane Austen, her books would be about flying man-eating plants, pies that take over the world - and the like. Well, maybe not that extreme - but be grateful I'm not her!_

_NOTE: As this is a modern (and rather twisted) version of Austen's masterpiece, be ready to expect some explicit language i.e. shit, bitch, crap, etc. You have two choices from this point onward - jump in with two feet, or turn back. Just don't say I didn't warn you!_

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_**Soundtrack: **Right Here (Departed) - Brandy_

"And when your tears are dry from cryin',  
And when the world's turned silent,  
So when the clouds above Departed,  
You will be right here with me, "

* * *

_Elizabeth grinned, scanning the group before her. All the faces were eager and happy. Lunchtime! The only thing that stood between the kids and fun was -  
_

_"Ring-a-ring of rosies!"_

_"No, that's a boring game! What about tag?"_

_"Tag? I want -"_

_"Let's play cops and robbers!"_

_"What? That game -"_

_"Sucks? How dare you say that game sucks, you little -"_

_"Calm down, will you! Geez, we haven't even started playing…"_

_And that was the playground at lunchtime. It was a cacophony of little voices yelling their little hearts out, all wanting to be in the spotlight. "Listen to me! Do what I say!" Everyone wants to be a leader, even when they aren't even old enough to understand the difference between reality and fantasy._

_"I say we play stuck in the mud!" yelled Elizabeth._

_There was a pause, while they eyed each other. Anyone going to offer an alternative? Anyone want to continue the yelling and arguing for a while longer? The tension was almost tangible._

_"Yeah, okay."_

_That was suddenly followed by a chorus of "Yeah, let's do it! Who's in?" Everyone breathed a silent sigh of relief; there were days – extremely bad days – where they would never decide on something to do. Then the bell would ring, and they would trudge glumly to class. That never stopped the debates though. It was almost standard procedure for lunchtimes._

_"Hey, why do we always listen to Lizzie?" asked a boy._

_Elizabeth looked at him with distaste. He was shorter than her, with spiky brown hair that looked like it would never lie straight. A mother's nightmare, she bet. He had dark, blue eyes that were almost black, as well as a straight and commanding posture for a young boy. But he was a newcomer to the school, so he should have no say in such matters - and she was going to teach him that._

_There was a slight murmur in the group, as the words sunk in. Go against Lizzie? Was this boy nuts?_

_Elizabeth's mischievous hazel eyes locked onto his now, and the crowd knew what was going to come next._

_"They don't always listen to me." said Elizabeth matter-of-factly.  
_

_"Oh really? Then how come, for the past week, we've been playing only your games?" pointed out the boy.  
_

_Elizabeth's mouth curved into a smile. It looked innocent, but had such a strong sense of deviousness._

_"What's your name?" she asked._

_He quickly dropped his eyes from hers, and tweaked his shirt uncomfortably. Oh, this was so easy. He was already giving up, and she hadn't even got to the fun part yet! Perhaps she should ease him along, to have a little more fun._

_"Scared of telling me your name?"_

_"No! My name's Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and you better respect it!"_

_Elizabeth snorted, as did the rest of the group._

_"'And you better respect it!' Who do you think you are?"_

_He looked like he would just crawl up into a ball right then, or run away crying. What a little mummy's boy! Elizabeth nearly turned away in disgust. There was no fun in this type. They only got you into the principal's office, a place where Elizabeth Bennet had been to too often. Sometimes she wondered whether there was another girl out there who had been in the principal's office at least fifteen times at the tender age of nine. She was surprised she hadn't been expelled yet._

_To everyone's surprise, "Fitzwilliam" regained his stance, and looked straight into Elizabeth's eyes again. He seemed to grow taller, and then his eyes grew darker. The hair softened to fall in lustrous curls that framed his head perfectly. And his face seemed to waver. What was happening? Elizabeth's eyes widened. Don't look away. Keep eye contact. He was going to listen to __her. _

_"You're such a snob, Darcy." she yelled defiantly._

_He took a step closer to her, his eyes flashing. Where were the other kids? Elizabeth broke her own rule, and glanced around frantically. They were there, standing mutely, waiting for the rest. Their faces were a blur, but Elizabeth could feel their expectation. They were waiting, waiting for the final moment. What was going to happen? Wasn't almighty Lizzie going to snap, and tackle that Darcy down?_

_She flicked her gaze back to Darcy, and laughed mirthlessly._

_"What sort of name is Fitzwilliam, anyway?"_

_He merely smiled, unperturbed, and took more steps towards her. Elizabeth could feel her breath coming out in rasps now. He was too close, far too close. She could see the tiny freckles on his nose, the curve of his lips as he smiled – no, smirked. Elizabeth felt like she couldn't breathe. Why so close? And why did he seem so tall now?_

_Elizabeth looked away from him in panic. What was he doing? And the crowd was closing in! They were walking towards them, blocking out the rest of the playground. And they were also towering over her. Why was everyone so tall? She couldn't make out any features on the faces anymore. No, no, this was wrong. Something was wrong…_

_"Lizzie? Look at me."_

_His voice was no longer the squeaky young child's. It was smooth and deep, almost commanding her to look at him. She daren't, though. He was dangerous. She didn't know why, but she simply couldn't look at him. Not like this. And suddenly she felt tears pool up in her eyes, and splash soundlessly onto the floor. She couldn't take it anymore._

_She slapped him. As hard as she could._

_The crowd roared, and a ringing sound drilled into her head. And Darcy was falling, falling straight into a dark hole. She felt terror grip her. What had she done? He was calling out urgently, telling her…what?_

_"Lizzie! Lizzie!" he cried._

_And the tears were running down her face, knowing that she could do nothing. He was going to fall by himself; she wasn't going to go down with him…_

_But the sharp shrill sound crescendoed, and suddenly she was also hurtling into the hole. Smothering darkness tried to choke her, but she breathed in one strangled breath at a time. Her chest hurt, everything hurt. It was unbearable. Where was everyone? Where was Darcy?_

_"Darcy?! I'm-"_

The words choked, and she was now falling into light. She could breathe again. Relief flooded through her, and she sighed. But then she frowned. Why was that shrill sound still going? It was still resonating unpleasantly through her ears. She grimaced, and then floundered around, trying to find the origin.

_CRACK!_

"Holy shit!"

Elizabeth's eyes flew open, and she turned on her side to look at the floor. And there was the source of noise, destroyed on the floor. Elizabeth groaned loudly. This was the third alarm clock she had killed in the past year! All three of them had faced the same fate – death on the bedroom floor. Perhaps she should switch to one of those bizarre running clocks that forced people to get up and switch them off…no; she would probably destroy that one as well. And waste a further $200.

Elizabeth groaned again, rubbing her eyes to ward off sleep. Knowing her, she would fall back to sleep in a second if she didn't get up now. So she mumbled something unintelligible and rolled out of bed. Straight onto the hard, tiled floor.

"Crap! Ow!" she yelled "How many times do I have to tell myself to get carpet?"

It did the trick though. It was cold enough, and hard enough for Elizabeth to get off the floor straight away and run to the bathroom, her teeth chattering from the cold. She stared sleepily at her reflection. Tousled brown hair was falling out of a lopsided pony tail and dark rings were under her hazel eyes. There was also an ugly red mark pressed onto the right side of her face. Great.

"That's what you get for sleeping at four in the morning!" she growled at her reflection.

She grabbed the toothpaste and toothbrush angrily, as if they had done her a gross injustice. And then she tortured her face, scrubbing at it harshly until the red mark blended in. Her hair? She cursed through the whole process of yanking it out of the pony tail, and running the brush through it with stoic perseverance. She prided herself for not yelling out once in pain. Despite having half her head ache after she finished.

When she thought she looked respectable, Elizabeth grabbed a bowl and haphazardly poured cereal into it. What a day! And it was only the beginning. Elizabeth thought that she could probably fall asleep right then, and wake up the day after. Probably at night. Bah, she was already half nocturnal anyway. She was only awake in the morning because…

"Oh shit!" she cried, looking wildly at the fridge door.

And there was the bright notice, stuck proudly on the door. "REMEMBER THIS, LIZZIE!" it said, and there was a date circled, and a big "JOB INTERVIEW, 9:30" written next to it. 6/10/08, and that was today. A Monday. And it was already 8:45.

"Crap! Crap! Crap!"

Breakfast abandoned, she ran to her bedroom and wildly flung clothes onto her queen sized bed (Wow, how did she fall out of that?). She looked at the choices. Autumn, it was autumn. And that meant turtlenecks, skivvies and jeans. Well, jeans went with anything. Elizabeth quickly picked a fawn turtleneck, a beige coat, black skinny jeans and reddish-brown boots. Who cared if it didn't look great? She was doing this in two minutes. Or else she was going to miss the bus. And then it would be good-bye job. And it was a nice job opportunity, at a multi-billion dollar company, and she was going to be their head lawyer (or, at least _become_ their head lawyer in time) and earn big bucks, and buy a bigger apartment which was free of…

"Morning, Eliza. My, you're up early…" yawned a person behind her, "And you look totally ravishing."

Elizabeth froze, blinked twice, and slowly turned around. She plastered a fake smile which she hoped was passable onto her face.

"G'morning to you too, Mr. Collins." she squeaked. "Thanks for the compliment!"

"Tut, how many times must I tell you to call me Howard? And of course, the compliment was from my heart. You can't help being attractive Eliza – I wonder why you don't have a boyfriend already. Just waiting for the right man to come snap you up?"

Elizabeth winced when Howard slapped her shoulder.

"Why…yes! I'm looking so hard for the right guy. But it's just so hard, you know? Especially in this vicinity…"

"Tut, you mustn't be so very pessimistic! I'm sure you'll find the right guy. He might be closer than you think!"

Howard smiled broadly, and placed his hand firmly on Elizabeth's arm.

"Now, dearest Eliza, where are you off to?" he asked, "You seem to be in quite a hurry."

Elizabeth saw her chance, and immediately grabbed it.

"You know what, Mr Collins? I really must be off. I have a job interview, you see. I'll see you later!"

And with that, she literally ran to the door. She pretended not to hear the "It's Howard!" and "I can't wait to see you later!" Gosh, that guy was creepy. What was wrong with him?

Elizabeth sighed in relief, and slowed down to a brisk walk. She checked her watch. It read 9:05. Perhaps she could make it in the end. Despite that run-in with Howard Collins. Oh, that man was a horror. He was the landlord of the apartment block, which apparently gave him permission to walk in on any of his tenants' apartments without prior warning or consent. Heaven forbid if you were caught with a pet – or worse, in an intimate embrace with your boyfriend or husband. Elizabeth had never seen a married couple or family living in the apartment. And no wonder - they had all been scared off by the landlord.

And he had taken a particular fancy in Elizabeth, dropping in on her once, twice – up to ten times per day. Any excuse would do. But it was usually "I desired your company, dearest Eliza. And since I knew you had no boyfriend, I thought you would appreciate my company." Elizabeth had learned to stay out late, party hard, and come home in the early hours of the day - when the landlord would thankfully be asleep. And even then, there were times when he would come in (at 2 o'clock!) and enquire upon "the doubtlessly exotic and fascinating events of the night," therefore forcing Elizabeth to recount the clubbing, drinking…everything. Never mind that usually she was yawning her head off when she came back at that time.

Elizabeth swore that her apartment was bugged, but she had never found them. So she lived, practically in fear of the landlord barging in at any moment. But now there was hope. She would get this job and eventually be free of the obnoxious Mr Collins. That is, _if _she got the job, which she highly doubted, seeing as how it was already 9:14 and the bus still hadn't come.

"I missed the bus, didn't I?" she groaned, slowly banging her head on the bus pole.

A few people looked at her, and quickly walked away. They didn't want to be associated with this young lady, who was obviously on some sort of drug. Crack? Weed? Ecstasy? They didn't want to know.

"Young lady, are you alright?" asked an elderly lady.

Elizabeth quickly stopped her head banging, and smiled weakly. Obviously, this lady had been brave enough (or crazy enough) to ask her what was wrong. Did she really want to know? Didn't she think Elizabeth was on drugs, or mentally infirm?

"Oh I'm fine. I think I've just missed the bus, and I need to get to a job interview for Perigee Delta and…oh god."

Elizabeth stopped herself from sniffling. It had been such a good opportunity! To get out, start again, and perhaps make it big. Her other jobs had been almost disastrous. The job itself wasn't bad. But the bosses! Most had tried to grab her butt, and whispered in their "sexy" voice "Do me a favour, and I'll do one for you." Sleazy bosses? Most definitely. And it had always ended with a strangled laugh, as Elizabeth put her tae kwon do skills to good use by kicking their balls up their asses. The next day was always filled with whispers and finger pointing, and before long she found herself kicked out of the company. Not that she minded, in the end. She always held her head high, and walked out of the office with the same smile she walked in with.

But she had hoped so badly for a fresh start. One that wouldn't be as disastrous as all the others. And it seemed like it wasn't going to happen. Elizabeth bit down on her lip, willing the tears back. She wasn't going to give in. She still had 15 minutes to make the interview. It was going to be okay, as long as she pulled it together. Oh, who was she kidding?

"Know what dearie? I think you'll be fine." smiled the elderly lady, "Believe it or not, it's not the end of the world if you don't make this interview. Trust me, I've been through it. And I'm still here, happy and living it up."

Elizabeth's smile strengthened slightly, and she thanked the lady.

"Oh, how rude of me. Let me introduce myself. I'm Tanya Whiting. Let me see…ah, yes, I've brought my business cards. There you go!"

Elizabeth took the card (which was peach with silver writing) and examined it curiously. Just who was she? "Tanya Whiting, Chief Executive Officer." Wow, the woman was more than who she seemed to be. But the company? Elizabeth turned the card over, and almost dropped it in surprise.

"Procter and Gamble! Seriously?" cried Elizabeth. People turned around to look at them oddly.

"Well yes, dearie. Oh look, here's the bus. Tell me if you ever need help, okay?"

And then the woman walked off, before Elizabeth could say thank you, or a number of flattering comments that she would probably slap herself for saying later. She was still standing in a daze until the bus driver got mad and yelled a "Lady, are you getting on or not?" at her, to which she secretly gave the finger. She would have done it outright, but she knew that the bus driver would probably kick her off the bus if she did.

Hope. She had hope now.

She was going to go places. She was going to have a crack at fame (well, maybe not) and fortune. It wasn't so bad, after all. But, she was still going to have a shot at Perigee Delta Ltd., because she had that commitment to fulfil. Elizabeth was an honourable person after all.

And the streets of New York whizzed by, a blur of people, cars and buildings. Now that Elizabeth had "accepted" her fate, time seemed to go so much faster, instead of the tedious plod-plod to her career doom. But then a thought struck her – what if Ms Tanya was only joking? She'd better arrive at the interview on time (nine minutes!) and try her best. Because all she would have if she failed was a stranger's promise and promises were so easily broken.

As she knew only too well.

But she wasn't going to think on that, because dwelling on the past was unhealthy. Very unhealthy, she reminded herself. It was best she wasn't racoon-eyed when she finally got to the interview. So Elizabeth sighed, ran her hand through her hair (but not so much that it ruffled it) and waited until her stop arrived.

With a quick "Thank you!" (she always said thank you, no matter what she did to the bus driver, or bus driver did to her) Elizabeth walked off the bus, and looked around. New York never ceased to amaze her, despite having lived there for over two years. The place had a vibe that was almost infectious. Sure, it was sometimes intimidating and unforgiving, but there was no doubt in Elizabeth's mind that New York was vibrant, and _alive. _Brimming with energy. Brimming with people.

Well, she had lived near Boston for most of her life, which was nothing compared to New York. Really, Elizabeth loved New York. It suited her well to be around so many people, and so much life.

But today wasn't the best day to be admiring the city.

Elizabeth picked up her speed, and nearly jogged to the building she was supposed to arrive at approximately two minutes ago. This was no easy feat with high heeled boots, but she somehow managed. And she also managed to keep her hair and make-up intact, which she was pleased with. Normally she didn't care much for appearance, but an interview wasn't normal. Especially an interview with a multi-billion dollar consumer goods company which probably ranked their potential employees based on appearance. Such was the way of the world.

Amazed that she had arrived without getting lost, Elizabeth walked into a 85 storey office building and breathed a loud sigh of relief. Which she quickly regretted since everyone on the ground floor immediately turned around to look at her. How could she forget the echo properties of big, luxurious office blocks?

Embarrassment lasted for thirty seconds (yes, she timed it) before the people turned around, and continued their own business. And that freed Elizabeth to walk to the front desk, hopefully without drawing attention once more.

"Uhh." breathed Elizabeth.

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

Elizabeth cursed the receptionist silently. Why were they so collected and nonchalant, while she was burning red with humiliation?

"I'm here for an interview…" mumbled Elizabeth, hoping the receptionist would understand.

"Oh, of course. What time was it?" asked the receptionist, causing Elizabeth to blush even more.

She was late. Why did the receptionist have to remind her of this so pointedly? Well, it _was_ unintentional.

"9:30."

"Ah. Then you must be Elizabeth Bennet. I believe Larry has been waiting for you…"

The receptionist smiled, but it looked far too fake for Elizabeth's liking. And why did she know it was her straight away? Was something going on? And who was Larry?

"Thank you. May I ask for your name?"

"Claudia Lewis. Now, if you will proceed to the 68th floor, turn right, go five offices down, turn left and then…"

Elizabeth looked helplessly at Claudia, and finally coughed. She wasn't going to remember the directions.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll write down the directions then."

Elizabeth swore that Claudia had been hiding a smile. But, at least it seemed like the interview was still on. Now, all she had to do was breathe, talk like a sane person, and get the job. Hah. Easier said than done. _Much_ easier said than done.

With a final smile at Claudia, she took the piece of paper and headed for the elevators. She nearly shook her head at the extravagance that she was already seeing. Ten elevators! Stainless steel doors! A mosaic floor! This company really was loaded. And the proof of the company's significance almost made Elizabeth choke. But she wasn't going to chicken out. She was going to act this out, and get the job.

Elizabeth followed the directions, hoping that Claudia had written the right ones on the piece of paper, and in the right order. One mistake and Elizabeth would probably find herself…well, she wouldn't know, she would be lost.

_68__th__ floor…check._

_Turn right…check._

_Five offices down…check._

_Turn left…check._

_Pass the glass door…check._

_End of corridor…check._

_Turn right…check._

_Open big mahogany door…check._

"Good morning. Elizabeth Bennet, I presume." a deep, masculine voice said.

Elizabeth looked wildly for the speaker. The speaker chuckled, and Elizabeth saw a young man – probably in his late twenties or early thirties – sitting casually in a large leather chair with his feet up on a large glass table. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, with "you can't resist me 'cause I'm so damn handsome" written over all his features. He was a man who was used to bathing in oestrogen. Elizabeth merely smiled at him, and walked tentatively towards the table, which was strangely located on the far left-hand side of the room, opposite the door. (AN: imagine a sort of L-shape office, with a large bookshelf near the entrance, pristine Persian carpets on shining black and white tiles, tinkling chandeliers and vases with real flowers everywhere, with the actual table located behind the official entrance. Complicated? Yeah.)

"Good morning Mr…" started Elizabeth.

"Dear, didn't Claudia tell you to call me Larry?"

"I thought that was a joke."

Larry laughed, a booming sound made three times louder by the resonating office.

"Oh, you're a fine one! I can see why…" Larry paused, shifted, and sat up properly.

"See why what?" asked Elizabeth.

"Oh never mind. It isn't important. Anyway, I'm Laurence Wickham, but please call me Larry. Only my mum calls me Laurence. So, shall we get this over with?"

This Larry sure was a strange fellow. Elizabeth had expected an uptight asshole who would poke and prod and poke and prod until Elizabeth was ready to slap the person ten times. Seriously, did they _have _to ask her to remember all the details of a court case she had done for her previous employer three years ago? Who did they think she was? Einstein?

"What shall I call you? Just Elizabeth?" he asked pleasantly.

"No, I prefer Eliza…or Lizzie."

"So, Lizzie, you're applying for a job as lawyer, correct?"

"Yes." answered Elizabeth.

"Well, we already have about two…three…I don't really know, they are always – I mean sometimes – really boring people. I'm sure you're much better than them. Anyway, this is a very prosperous company, Lizzie, so we demand the best. What do you think you can contribute to Perigee Delta?" asked Larry.

These were the questions that Elizabeth had prepared for, and she even smiled a little when she answered.

"I can contribute efficiency and accuracy to the legal workings within Perigee Delta, and I believe I can add that little touch of class that it deserves. I will also be able to deal with legal decisions and even court cases quickly, and effectively. Though I prefer that the company does not get sued, because the paper work is horrendous…"

Larry laughed, and put up his hand.

"Don't worry, I'll tell my boss not to get the company sued."

Elizabeth blinked. So Larry wasn't the CEO of the company. That was to be expected though, or else he wouldn't be so carefree and friendly. It would have been interesting if he was – except Elizabeth would have wondered how he headed such a significant company.

Now she watched him write on his pad, waiting for him to ask her more questions. When he didn't say anything further, Elizabeth coughed discreetly to get his attention once more.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You should have stopped me from doodling."

"What?! I thought you were taking notes or something!" Elizabeth yelped.

Larry laughed again, this time louder than both times before.

"I never take notes, darl. Whoops, I'm a bad interviewer, aren't I? Oh, don't look like that. Did I offend you?"

"What if I said yes?" grumbled Elizabeth.

"Well, then I will say, I'm sorry. As my apology, I offer you the job."

"Oh…What? Seriously? You're not kidding, right?"

"Nope. Welcome to Perigee Delta, hon."

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_So what are your thoughts? All reviews appreciated! The more reviews, the faster the updates!_

_**30/12/08: **Changes to the formatting, disclaimer - and a bit of editing. Hopefully it's tidied up and looks nicer now.  
_


	2. It Just Gets Better

**It Just Gets Better**

_You may have noticed that before I was referring to Lizzie as "Elizabeth." From now on, I will be switching from Elizabeth to Lizzie, since we know her much more, don't we?_

_I know that it's bizarre that Collins can walk in (actually, it's an exaggeration – he doesn't do it to everyone –it's mainly Lizzie) but its all part of the fun. And usually, it's Lizzie who forgets to lock her door… xD But there's going to be an end to that very soon, don't worry._

_Thanks for all the reviews, guys! They really encourage me!_

_**Soundtrack:** Daylight – Kelly Rowland feat. Gym Class Heroes_

_(It's such a pretty song, and I think it symbolises what Lizzie's feeling – at least for the first part of the chapter)_

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What a long day.

It was over though, which Lizzie was glad for. The ceaseless paperwork! Whoever was the CEO of the company certainly liked to make several business deals per day. And they all had to be looked into, legally approved, and a whole bunch of other things that normal mortals would not want to know about.

Sure, there were the other solicitors but they were also busy, though Lizzie didn't know exactly what they were doing. She was sure she caught one or two of them (there were actually six solicitors, strangely enough – three were female) sneaking off upstairs to the 68th floor. Which only meant one thing. Larry Wickham.

That would normally have got on her nerves, but she could only laugh. Such unprofessional behaviour! But that behaviour, it seemed, was the professional standard at the central office of Perigee Delta. No, it wasn't that Larry bed those ladies sneaking off to his office. It was just that he would tell them to do him a favour, which would translate to him doing a favour for them.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing – well, the ladies agreed to it. Lizzie certainly would not agree to go photocopy some ridiculous page from European Car or Esquire (or pick up his fallen pen from the floor) just to see him smile and say "Thanks hon. What will I do without you?"

And Lizzie remembered that Larry had said solicitors were boring. Not, it seemed, when they were at his beck and call. Apparently, Larry liked "intelligent young ladies who don't seem so intelligent after you smile at then with a shit-eating grin."

Well, asides from Larry Wickham, Perigee Delta was a perfectly nice and normal place. Still, Lizzie couldn't help laughing at her first day in the office. Who knew a multi-billion dollar company would be so funny? But it was, truly.

"Good morning, Lizzie."

Lizzie had almost stopped dead in her tracks, having heard the receptionist – Claudia Lewis – address her in such a familiar way. With every other job, it was extremely rare for the receptionist to pass from "Miss Bennet" to "Elizabeth." But she had just heard Claudia call her Lizzie, a name which she reserved for family members only (ever since high school) – until yesterday, that is. Larry Wickham had been all too quick to start calling her Lizzie, she remembered.

"Oh, good morning Miss Lewis." replied Lizzie. She certainly wasn't going to appear unprofessional on her first day at the office.

"No need for that, Lizzie! We're all friends here. Well, except for the boss. Act all formal for the boss, or else he glares at you. But I swear that it's so worth seeing him glare because he's so damn…"

Lizzie could only shake her head in disbelief, and walk with a quick "Thank you!" to the elevators.

And who was waiting at her desk, apparently to make her feel more "welcome"? Larry Wickham, with a "give in, why don't you" smile on his face. Lizzie would normally have been appalled, but after the interview she simply smiled back and whacked him off her desk.

"This is my desk, right?" she had asked.

"Yeah, this is your desk for work and play. And by play I mean grrrr play. Oh, just don't destroy it."

"I doubt I'll be doing much grrr play on an office desk, Larry." Lizzie had replied, rolling her eyes.

"True. It's really uncomfortable."

And then he had walked away, whistling, leaving a shocked Lizzie at her desk. It had taken several seconds before she regained sense and put down her books and phone. Why phone? Because it was a bowling-pin-shaped cordless phone that her father had given her on her twentieth birthday, and she treasured it. Strangely enough.

Her first response to her new office was to whoop, and run to the windows. There was a nice view of Central Park, and she swore she could see the little children and parents walking and running through the park, even though she was 61 floors above the ground. It was nothing panoramic – that was reserved for the CEO's office – but it was far better than a previous job's view of another grey building three inches away from her window.

She had barely set down anything, before a lady – another solicitor – popped into Lizzie's office and introduced herself as Charlotte Lucas. She was a tolerable looking woman, with strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes. Lizzie had decided to withhold judgement upon the lady, which was something she rarely did. Charlotte, however, had taken an immediate liking to Lizzie.

"Morning! You're Lizzie, right? I'm Charlotte Lucas. Nice to meet you." she had said pleasantly, "Know what? Everyone's been talking about you!"

To which Lizzie had replied with a very unladylike "huh?"

"Ooh yes. You're basically a celebrity here. Well, a minor celebrity, like Miley Cyrus but…"

"Great." muttered Lizzie. She hated Miley Cyrus, so to be compared to her was mortifying.

"You see, Larry never stops talking about you. I reckon everyone knows that there's a new solicitor, who apparently has beautiful eyes and gorgeous legs."

"Does Larry ever stop talking?"

"Ha! Good one! He told me you were funny. Anyway, I would like to be your friend."

Lizzie had looked at Charlotte with mixed incredulity and wonder. No one had asked to be her friend since Kindergarten. And that had turned out to be a joke. Still, there had been something sincere about Charlotte. It was endearing, and, if Lizzie had been ten years older than her, she had no doubt she was going to be a motherly figure to Charlotte. Lizzie was actually three years younger, which she found out to her surprise.

Charlotte wasn't the only one to ask to be Lizzie's friend that day. It seemed like it was custom (probably started by Larry) to introduce oneself, and then declare oneself as the other's friend. And so, in one day, Lizzie had gained twenty-six friends. It had left her feeling bewildered, but happy. As well as wondering how they got their jobs done, since their work day seemed to consist of visiting other people's offices and commenting on the weather.

Lizzie shook off the thoughts before she ended up laughing or slapping her head in embarrassment. Now she was supposed to be going to go home, avoid Howard Collins, and sleep. Amazingly, she was too tired to go clubbing, something which would have been her normal routine only a month ago. These days, the job just took a lot out of her, despite the fact that half the time was spent appeasing Larry and his childish wants.

Larry wasn't the CEO, something which was made clear at the time of Lizzie's interview. Larry wasn't the President either. He wasn't even an Executive Vice President – he was a General Manager. And yet he seemed to have as much power as the CEO himself.

Lizzie had asked Charlotte once why he seemed to control everything.

"Oh, everybody wants to do something for him. Well, mostly the women. But men listen to him as well. Wouldn't you? I mean, those eyes…and that body…"

Lizzie had snorted. It figured.

"And he's also a good friend of the Chief. Been friends since college, he says."

"Then why isn't he the Vice President, or something higher?"

"Ah, that's because the Chief can't trust him with a higher position."

And the two had collapsed into giggles, just like they were lifelong friends. Lizzie had never been happier. These were the first actual friends she'd had since college. Previously they had merely been acquaintances. Well, except for Casey and Cheyenne, twins she had regularly gone clubbing with. But she hadn't seen them regularly for the month she had been working at Perigee Delta.

Lizzie shook her head in amazement. What a life she had before!

But now was the time to go inside the apartment, and collapse onto the bed like a dead person. And she fully intended to do so. That is, until –

"Eliza! I've been waiting for you!"

Lizzie flung open the door, and stared at Howard Collins, who was seated comfortably on her sofa. What the heck? But Lizzie should have known. She had lived through it for the past half year after all. Anytime, anywhere, expect Howard Collins to be there.

"Evening, Mr Collins. How…kind…of you to visit me. In my apartment. Again." she said through gritted teeth.

Lizzie was tired, and when she was tired she became grumpy. And she was about to crack. But she needed the apartment, at least for another three months. And then she would be able to yell at Collins as much as she wanted. As much as he deserved.

Find a happy place. Find a happy place.

"Yes, absolutely generous of me, isn't it? I thought you might need a bit of company. You know, you without a boyfriend, and always by yourself…"

Collins clapped his hands in glee like a little child. Obviously he thought his little acts of kindness were very much appreciated. And he was quite oblivious to Lizzie's clenched fists, and dark look.

But then Lizzie smiled. It was time to put this foolish behaviour out. And, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she widened her grin and set down her cloak and folders. She even pulled up her sleeves as if she was attempting something rather undesirable. Which she was.

"Mr Collins, I'm so very flattered that you care so much about me! Why, you must be thinking about me 24 hours a day, to always be there for me."

"Yes! I have an Eliza radar, you know."

Lizzie's mouth flew open, but then quickly closed. She couldn't afford to be flustered now.

"Oh? Eliza radar, you say? I'm pleased that I deserve one."

"It is in-built." And here Collins tapped his head, "I feel a little tingle whenever you are close."

Lizzie almost gagged. Here she was, talking to a man a head shorter than her, with greasy mouse-brown hair and watery eyes, and he was saying that he felts tingles whenever Lizzie was there. That was enough to make Lizzie want to retch. How disgusting!

And she was going to encourage him. Encourage him. But only for a little longer, before she made it extremely clear. So clear, that even Collins would understand.

"Oh Mr Collins, you humour me far too much." Lizzie replied, tacking on a weak giggle. This. Was. So. Wrong.

"But my sweet rose, I cannot help but be drawn to you. I feel we are meant to be. I've been meaning to tell you for so long…"

"I haven't found the right man to 'snap me up' yet, Mr Collins." interrupted Lizzie with a frantic wave of her hands.

Collins paused, frowned, and then immediately reverted back to his grin.

"Dearest Eliza, surely you feel it too? The electric pulse in the air, the heart beating faster than usual, the mutual…attraction?"

This was beyond tolerable now. Lizzie felt a hot flush as she blushed with extreme mortification. Okay, it wasn't a good idea to humour him. It seemed like he had gone past being happy with backhand compliments, and wanted…Lizzie shuddered to think of it.

"Actually, when I come to think of it…"

"Yes, my dearest?"

"I always feel this need to scratch my head…"

"In wonder of our love?"

"In exasperation." finished Lizzie.

Collins looked confused for a second. Lizzie had always brushed away comments lightly and took care neither to contradict him, nor encourage him. So it was a first for Lizzie to flat out contradict him. But Collins wasn't about to give it up so easily.

"Exasperation meaning in sheer incredulity for the extent of our wonderful, blooming love?" he asked.

"No, exasperation meaning in extreme annoyance and frustration."

"Why Lizzie, is this because I should have made it clearer earlier that I was so in love with you? But surely you would have noticed how I light up whenever I see you, how often I crave your attention!"

"Mr Collins, it is because you always 'crave my attention' that I'm exasperated! You're a landlord, Collins. But you shouldn't be allowed to fucking wander into people's rooms without permission! Have you heard of privacy, Collins?"

And the whole room went quiet.

Lizzie wondered whether she had been slightly too harsh on the man. But really, this was just a bad time to be messing with her. And the utter idiocy in the idea that she "craved" more of his attention had driven her over the edge. The mere thought had got her seeing red. After all, his attention was partly to blame for the living hell of the past half year.

"I see that I'm not wanted here. But I'm an extremely eligible bachelor, Eliza, and you've just lost me! Many ladies out there would sell their soul to marry a man like me."

"Oh yeah? Well, only ladies without souls – and their minds – will marry a man like you." retorted Lizzie loudly.

Collins paled, and took out a grubby handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his forehead. He looked like he was about to faint, but then he recollected his composure and walked out of the open door. A few people, who had wondered what the shouting match was about, had collected around it. They all hid a grin and moved aside when Collins walked out.

"Know what, Eliza? I'm been extremely kind to you. I made rent cheaper for you by ten percent! Did you know that?" he asked, fuming.

Lizzie looked at him, and a touch of regret lighted her eyes.

"I know, Mr Collins. And I'm grateful for that. But I need my privacy."

Collins didn't seem to hear her.

"There's never been a kinder landlord! I was so very kind, Eliza! But I see that my kindness has been misplaced. Goodbye, Miss Bennet. I hope to never cross your path again!"

Lizzie sighed in relief. At least that was over. She could now cross off "get Collins of my back" from her mental to-do list. And she did so, with a whoop of happiness. She was rather regretful that she couldn't do it a better way, though. It was never a good idea for the landlord to have you in the bad books. Who knows what Collins could do to Lizzie?

But right now, Lizzie was happy. Because she could probably have her fought-for privacy now, fingers crossed. But it had come at a price. It seemed like the whole apartment population had gathered at her door, looking rather stunned.

"What? Never seen a shouting match before?" she said.

And then the whole building erupted into cheers, probably leaving a very embarrassed Collins walking back to his own apartment.

"Good work, Miss Bennet!"

"You should have done it earlier!"

"That will teach him!"

The chorus rang loudly through the building, and Lizzie blushed. What had she done? But soon the crowd dissipated, leaving Lizzie alone. Blessed privacy! She could hopefully enjoy more of it now.

And so she flung herself onto her bed, sighing in contentment. She looked up at her Disney Princesses clock (it was a present from her mother) which read 6:48. Dinnertime. And her stomach grumbled assent.

With a laugh, she reached for her phone, and saw the messages light flashing. Damn, she hated messages. It was usually Lydia or Kitty, and that meant a meaningless recount of their shopping trip, or date with some random guy. She had often asked them why they chose to pester her, and not Jane or Mary.

"Mary never replies, and anyway, she doesn't deserve to hear it. And Jane's too busy."

Which Lizzie always retorted with, "I'm busy as well! Can't you get that into your thick heads?"

"But we like you Lizzie. You're our guiding star, or some other grovelling shit. Come on, it doesn't harm you, does it?"

And Lizzie would always give in, though they had the same argument almost every single time. Never face to face though, because they were attending college at Lesley College, Cambridge. And that left Lizzie wondering what exactly they taught there, for them to have so much leisure time for all the little follies that Kitty and Lydia constantly indulged in.

Anyway, listening to messages would come later, because Lizzie's stomach basically roared in protest then. She laughed, rubbed her stomach, and called for a Chinese takeaway. Well, she couldn't cook, and Chinese was fast and cheap. So that's what she generally ate. And then she stared at the phone, gathering her wits for the horror that would certainly await her.

She pressed the button.

"Hi. I'm probably home; I'm just avoiding someone I don't like. Leave me a message, and if I don't call back, it's you."

Lizzie smiled at her message. That was the only thing that would be funny on the tape though, because the rest would be a gush of "Omg! Omg! Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!" Lizzie grimaced, and braced herself for the torrent about to come.

"L-i-z-z-i-e! (Her name had been dragged out for approximately ten seconds) Guess what Lizzie? We went to Donna's party yesterday, and it was sooo cool. We are soooo lucky to be in the A-list, or else we would have missed it. Omg, there were freaking fifty people at the party, maybe more, and like, I was the prettiest girl there." (Lizzie heard a "Hey, I was really pretty as well!" from Kitty in the background) "And the boys were like, swooning over me. It was awesome, Lizzie. You should have been there. But whoops, you're an old granny now. Gotta admit it Lizzie, you practically are, seeing as how -"

Lizzie growled angrily at the phone, hating Lydia for bringing that up. Did she have to?

The phone message continued, but Lizzie tuned out. It didn't sound as if it was anything important anyway. Something about a girl called Katy falling into the pool, and then Donna's parents coming home early and busting the party. Trust Kitty and Lydia to go to an illegal party.

Their message finally ended after ten minutes of torture, and surprisingly a different voice heralded the next one.

"Hey Lizzie, it's Jane. How are you, younger sis? I heard you got a new job at Perigee Delta. Interesting. Do you know who the CEO is? Well, you probably do. Anyway, modelling's cool right now, because I know you always want to know how I'm going. They say I may go to the Milan fashion show, unless something comes up. Anyway, that's not the main message. I have some free time right now – the holiday season, you know. So I think I might go to your place before Thanksgiving, and then we can go together to Boston for Thanksgiving. What do you think Lizzie?"

The door bell rang then, and Lizzie received her takeaway. She eagerly opened the box, and then thought about the proposal. It would be so good to see Jane again. Jane, Lizzie's lovely, angelic sister who had taken up modelling because she was so stunningly beautiful. Lizzie always thought that if there were angels in real life, Jane would be one.

And so Lizzie thought, while munching on her dinner. (AN: Pad Thai, anyone?)

Then the phone rang.

Lizzie jumped at the phone, picked it up, and breathed a "Hello?"

She hoped it was Jane, and coincidentally it was.

"Lizzie? Oh, I almost thought that you hated me, because you weren't picking up."

Lizzie laughed. Though her sister's voice was distant and distorted, it was such a comfort to hear it. They had both been so busy that they had been in touch only ten times in the past year.

"I could never hate you Jane. No one can hate you!" exclaimed Lizzie, mock horrified at the mere thought.

"Oh Lizzie. Anyway, did you get my message?"

"The message about coming to New York before Thanksgiving? Yep. I think it's a great idea."

"Good, I'd hoped so, but I wasn't sure I should go ahead without your consent."

"You don't need my consent to do so! I would love to have you here, anytime."

"Sure you would, Lizzie. So, how's everything going? Your new job seems wonderful. Life's getting better, isn't it?"

Lizzie grinned. Jane had no idea. With the Collins thing over, everything looked extremely bright.

"Yeah, it's great." Then Lizzie frowned. Something nagged at her – the CEO thing.

"Hey Jane, who's the CEO of Perigee Delta?"

There was an awkward pause. Lizzie's frown deepened. What was wrong?

"I thought you knew, Lizzie. You agreed to do the job, right?"

"Yeah…so?"

"Oh, who the CEO is doesn't really matter, right? As long as you're enjoying your job, right?"

Lizzie took in a breath. Who was it, then? Jane almost sounded worried, and that was very uncharacteristic of her.

"Yeah…" replied Lizzie hesitantly.

"Lizzie, it's Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Another awkward pause. Lizzie stared at the phone, as if she could see Jane in it.

"D-Darcy? That Darcy? The one that we know?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Oh god! How come I didn't know? Charlotte always talks about the CEO, Claudia's basically in love with him, and Larry's his best friend! How could I not have known? Why didn't I ask someone? Why didn't I check-"

"Relax, Lizzie! It's not the end of the world! You're working for him, that's it. Nothing more. He's not asking for anything more, is he?"

"No, he's not even here. I think he's on a business trip of some sort."

"That explains why you didn't know it was him. Anyway, don't worry Lizzie. Odds are that he doesn't even know he employed you. He's the CEO after all."

"But it's Darcy! What the hell? I thought he moved to California! Why's he here in New York?"

"Think sensibly, Lizzie. He moved to California nine years ago. He probably did a business degree, became really successful and climbed up the corporate ladder of Perigee Delta. And so he's CEO now."

"That makes sense." laughed Lizzie nervously.

"Anyway, he's probably changed as well, just like you've changed. For the better."

"Fat chance of that, Jane! And freaking hell, I changed. I'm basically a different person now! Because of him!" she spat the last few words out with distaste.

"I know, Lizzie. I literally saw you change." Jane said sadly.

Lizzie knew she was going to cry, unless she did something fast. She stuffed some more noodles into her mouth, and choked. Well, at least it stopped her from crying.

"Lizzie? You alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Really Lizzie, give the guy a second chance. Maybe you'll be surprised."

"He doesn't deserve a second chance." growled Lizzie, "Why are you sticking up for him? I remember you saying 'Lizzie, I will kill him for doing this.' So why are you saying this now?"

Jane sighed.

"Lizzie, I think we overreacted. I know I did. But I was scared for you. To see you like that was horrible. But that was eight or nine years ago. Lizzie, promise me you'll give Darcy a chance."

"Fine. I'll give him a chance, because you're asking. But if I see crap once more, he's done."

Jane chuckled, "Yes, deal."

Lizzie paused. She felt lonely right then. So very insecure.

"Jane, come soon. I'm going to need your guidance, older sis."

Lizzie could almost see Jane's smile on the other end of the phone line.

"Sure thing, Lizzie. I'll be there in a week or so, then. Promise to pick me up from the airport?"

"You can't stop me!"

Lizzie smiled weakly. She felt like hell. The resurgence of Fitzwilliam Darcy. It was like some sort of sick horror film. And it seemed like Lizzie was caught in it, like a fly caught in a spider's web. And it was only going to grip tighter to her, the more she fought.

Lizzie shuddered, and feebly brushed the thoughts away. TV. That always helped to calm her.

She flicked on the TV, and aimlessly looked through the channels. And something caught her eye.

PBS News Hour.

"Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, CEO of Perigee Delta, arrives at New York tomorrow after a successful business trip to Europe."

Lizzie stared at the picture of him on the TV. Dark brown hair, almost black, framed his face. Those dark, piercing blue eyes that Lizzie had seen far too often gazed straight at her through the TV. Lizzie almost screamed.

This was a face she had hoped never to see again.

"Mr Darcy, with the country facing recession, do you think your company is in any danger?"

Lizzie watched him walking in an expensive suit, surrounded by flashing cameras and journalists.

"No, not at all. We won't be doing a Lehman Brothers, that's for sure. We're not going bankrupt any time soon."

"They say your trip to Europe was a huge success. What do you say, Mr Darcy?"

"Well, they got it correct for once. It was definitely a huge success. I believe we can look forward to further company expansion, and more consumer goods lines."

"You're not scared that company expansion may lead to downfall, especially in these turbulent economic times?"

"I think that being in business means taking chances. Being timid gains nothing. So no, I am not scared. And I believe the shareholders will agree with me on this matter. There has been much discussion concerning this, to make sure we don't overstretch ourselves."

"Thank you, Mr Darcy, and good luck with your ventures."

Darcy smiled, which made Lizzie's skin crawl. But his next words sent her world spinning.

"You're welcome. I don't believe the company can fail with such talented employees supporting us."

And then he stared right into the camera, before disappearing into his limo. Lizzie reached for the remote control, and weakly pressed a button. She covered her head in her hands. Why was this happening? Her life was just getting under control, and now he comes and ruined it all.

Lizzie pounded the sofa, but immediately regretted it as she hit the wooden frame. She yelped in pain, clutching her hand. And tears started leaking from her eyes, which she was disgusted about.

She angrily wiped away the tears, and looked at herself in the bedroom mirror. No, she wasn't going to run away. She was going to face this, just like she faced Collins. And she was going to win, and receive the closure she needed.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy, it looks like we meet again." she whispered.

* * *

_Dun dun dun!! So, any idea what the twist is yet? Well, part of that was the twist, but anyway. _

_There will definitely be a Lizzie and Darcy encounter next chapter. There's also going to be a little insight into what has happened between the two._


	3. Trip Down Memory Lane

**Trip Down Memory Lane**

So, Lizzie's rid of the annoying Collins – or is she? Nahh, jokes, he's not coming back too soon. And I'm sorry Darcy didn't make his true appearance last chapter. He will definitely appear here.

Oh yes, a big thank you to _Illusiional Ice _who is my new beta! I'm sure you'll notice a big improvement in grammar and spelling. She's incredible. =]

_Soundtrack: Behind These Hazel Eyes (suits the atmosphere very well. And Lizzie does have hazel eyes!)_

* * *

Lizzie let loose her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders like a waterfall. She didn't know why her loosened hair gave her a greater sense of security, but she figured that she could always hide behind her hair as a last resort. Yeah right.

Who was she kidding? She wasn't ready to face Darcy anytime soon. Every time she staged a meeting in her mind, a hand seemed to squeeze at her heart, causing her to stop and glare at herself in the mirror. She was no weakling. She wasn't going to cry like she did when she was eighteen. But even Lizzie had to admit that it still hurt. A lot.

And now she was on the bus, riding towards her doom without a single clue about what to do. She stared at her reflection in the window and played listlessly with the hair tie on her wrist. What was she going to do when she saw him again?

She remembered, though not so clearly, the days in primary school. They used to play together all the time, in large groups. They played together for years until year four brought about the introduction to cooties.

"_Don't touch the boys! They have boy germs."_

"_Yeah, they'll give you cooties and make you just like them!" _

"_Eww!" they__ all shrieked, laughing._

Lizzie remembered Darcy as a young child. He had been finicky, thin, and rather demanding. However, he had the sweetest smile, and all of the teachers loved him. But the girls called him a snob and stayed away from him. No girl liked him in primary school.

And then, in a blur of time, Lizzie and Darcy's year had graduated, and she remembered being glad that Darcy and a bunch of other kids were going to the same high school as her. It had been so exciting to know they were going to be high school freshman.

"_We're big kids now! Can you believe it? Darcy, can you believe it?" Lizzie __asked__ Darcy excitedly._

"_Actually, Lizzie, I can." he__ laughed__._

Lizzie paused in her musing, finding it funny that she had always called him Darcy. But the reason had been rather simple.

"_Fitzwilliam, why do you have such a strange name?" a young Lizzie asked Darcy._

"_Well, your name's not that much better, Elizabeth." retorted Darcy lamely._

"_Besides__, it's a family name. My mother's last name, actually."_

_Lizzie yawned, "It's such a mouthful! I don't think I can manage saying it every time!"_

"_Well, just call me Darcy!"_

Lizzie smiled at the memory. They had been so young and so naïve. Why did it turn out this way, then? Was it all because Lizzie had been stupid and said yes far too quickly? But it was Darcy who had destroyed everything else later.

Lizzie's mobile started a raucous jingle, making everyone on the bus look at her. Lizzie blushed, and quickly answered the mobile.

"Hello?"

"_Lizzie! Where are you? You better hurry, because there are cameras and journalists everywhere!"_

"Charlotte, let me guess. It's Fitzwilliam Darcy making a grand return to his New York office?" said Lizzie, with a bored tone.

"_Yes, actually. How did you know? Anyway, you better hurry!"_

"I'd rather not. Tell me, has he arrived yet?"

"_I don't think so. Well, I'm rather early today, so basically no one is here yet. Oh dear, this probably means that we're going to have to work from now on."_

"Really? So, what we were doing with Larry wasn't work?"

"_Most definitely not!" _replied Charlotte, horrified.

"Things are going to be very different now, then." mused Lizzie.

"_Definitely. No sneaking off to Larry's office, that's for sure. Wait, that's Mr Darcy's office on the 68__th__ floor."_

"What? Oh, trust Larry to use the Chief's office while the Chief's away."

"_Yeah…anyway. I do think the 'professional standard' that you keep talking about will be restored. It's rather amazing what one man can do. No more laughing __and__ more head down working. God forbid if Mr__.__ Darcy or his cameras catch you wandering about aimlessly or chatting with another employee without his permission."_

"Wow, he sounds like a control freak. I wonder when he became like that…"

And another memory struck Lizzie, rather harshly. There was the image of Darcy, grinning triumphantly at the head of the basketball team. He was holding up a shining cup and waving it about proudly. And then he made his speech.

"_Ladies and Gents, thanks for watching the game today. Basketball wouldn't be basketball without y'all. So thank you! Now, I'm very proud of my team today. We've proved that we're the best team, once again. But this wasn't through luck. It took a lot of work. I know how hard we've been working, since I've been making sure we're working that hard. It was tough, but we've reaped the awards. Team, we've pulled through this well together. Let's bring the cup back next year."_

_And Lizzie, like all the crazed girls, screamed out "We love you Darcy!" He fixed his eyes on the cheering crowd, winked, and smiled his most dazzling,__ heart-melting__ smile. And Lizzie had felt her heart leap, her knees weaken, and her mouth curve into a large grin without her consent. _

Lizzie waved the memory away. That was over now.

"_He's a good CEO though. He pays the employees well, at least. And the office is always in pretty good shape. And he treats us with respect, though he's slightly aloof."_

Lizzie lifted her eyebrows sceptically. Sure, he had to act all professional, and God-like. He always had. And it looked like he always would.

"And how much exactly does he get paid each year?"

"_125.6 million dollars. Not bad, huh?"_

Lizzie rolled her eyes. When did Darcy go from a basketball captain to a hotshot businessman? Lizzie had always thought that Darcy would go into acting, for all the dramas he got himself into. Lizzie shivered then – didn't the drama major have something to do with her? The school had been in scandal. She remembered all the whispering and pointing.

"_It's Lizzie's fault Darcy's leaving."_

Lizzie remembered wanting to scream at them and yell that they didn't know the whole story. She hated rumours from then on, because it always made her remember the rumours that circulated in her last year of high school.

And then she had taken a gap year before college, a time that was far from taking the leisure to travel the world and looking at its wonders. She had taken a year off because she would remember him every morning and end up crying. Her parents hadn't known what to do, so they let her be. She nearly became a total recluse. But she pieced herself together, piece after painful piece, and the year eventually passed.

"_Lizzie? __Are you__ still with me? You must be gawking at the fortune he has, right?"_

"Yeah, it's so very dazzling." said Lizzie dryly, "I don't think I'll be talking for a long time, because I'm in shock."

"_He has that effect on people. Anyway, got to go. See you soon, okay?"_

Lizzie snapped the mobile shut and bobbed her head. Rather than make her nervous, Charlotte's call calmed her. And now, she was resolved. Lizzie was going to tackle this problem once and for all. She was going to do it. She was going to take Jane's advice and give him another chance even though he didn't deserve it. She wasn't going to lose her temper, nor was she going to collapse into tears.

Acquaintances. Employer and employee. That's what they were. No more and no less than that. She was going to play her part perfectly.

"Thank you!" she called to the bus driver.

She walked off the bus with her head high and a determined smile plastered onto her face. However, her smile quickly faded when she saw the large crowd of cameras and people outside of the building.

"Damn. How am I supposed to even get into the building?" she asked herself.

Lizzie was not one to run at the first sign of danger, though. She deeply inhaled and exhaled (Tae Kwon Do helped at a time like this), and regained her smile. Then, she walked straight into the battlefield, hoping that it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

She was wrong and matters only got worse.

Lizzie was so intent on getting into the building that she didn't bother to look at the road side. She didn't see the big crowd moving swiftly towards her. And she didn't know until the person walked straight into her.

"Ouch!" Lizzie cried, landing on the floor.

"Watch it, lady."

The voice was familiar. Lizzie turned her face in horror, and saw Fitzwilliam Darcy staring at her with very angry eyes. He picked himself off the floor, and started brushing himself off as if he had fallen into dirt.

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. The nerve of the man! He had bumped into her, for goodness sake. And he was acting like he was the victim. His behaviour felt all too familiar.

The cameramen and people rushed straight towards Lizzie and Darcy. Lizzie groaned. Would this be on the news? She didn't think she would be able to handle seeing herself on the news or on a newspaper next to Darcy. Or rather, below Darcy. That would be one disturbing image.

Lizzie stood up as gracefully as she could and pretended to look worried. Darcy was now muttering angrily to the people around him, glancing once or twice at Lizzie without a hint of recognition visible.

"I'm sorry, Chief, I didn't mean to knock into you. How foolish of me." she said clearly for the cameras.

Feeling like a fool, she smiled and continued her walk into the building without a backward glance. If Darcy was going to act like he didn't know her, then she could do it too.

Claudia greeted her from the reception, smiling widely.

"Morning, Lizzie! Would you look at the crowd? Isn't it so exciting?" she asked.

"Yeah. As exciting as watching a dog chasing its tail." Lizzie replied.

"I said exciting, not funny, Lizzie! Anyway, I think it's going to be a busy day. Oh yeah, just to let you know, Wickham's office is actually on the 61st floor."

"No way! Does he manage the solicitors?" asked Lizzie.

"No, he manages advertising, I think. Advertising's on the floor below yours, you know. Oh, lucky you! You'll be able to spend more time with him, Lizzie!"

Lizzie blushed. Wickham was charming, as all playboys were. But he treated Lizzie just like any other lady. That is, with a smile, a smirk, and a slap on the ass. Lizzie often wondered if he was capable of treating a woman as his equal with mutual respect. Still, Lizzie liked him because he was funny. Besides, they got along pretty well as friends.

"Claudia, I thought you were in love with Chief. Mr Darcy."

"Yeah, but Wickham's about equal with him. In my eyes, they are the perfect men. Handsome, charming – well, Mr Darcy not so much – and, most of all, rich."

"Hey, don't say that, or people will be calling you a shallow gold-digger." said Lizzie with mock seriousness.

"Don't they already? Anyway, you know what I'm like, Lizzie. That, or I'd be ashamed to call you my friend!"

Lizzie simply shook her head. Claudia never failed to amuse her. Lizzie was grateful for this, because she sensed a tough day coming up. For some reason, Lizzie knew that her previous encounter with Darcy was not the last for the day. She was aware that a full-on encounter would test her to her wit's end.

With a final glance at the crowd – Darcy was still answering questions – she went to the elevators. And there, waiting for one of the elevators, was Larry Wickham. Lizzie smiled. Was it possible that he was waiting for her? There were ten elevators, how could he not have gotten one already? Or maybe Lizzie was just thinking too much.

"Why, good morning Larry."

"Good morning! Fancy seeing you here."

"Yes, a 'fancy,' isn't it?"

"Aw, don't look like that. Fine, you caught me. I was waiting for you. So what? You know, dozens of women would love to be in your position."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. It was this all over again.

"Sure, Larry. I reckon it was just a coincidence. You never wait for anyone."

"Well, for you I make an exception. Why? Because I like you."

"Stop the charm, Larry. What's up?"

"Can't a co-worker go with another co-worker to their offices together?" asked Larry, looking crestfallen.

"Only if they are acquaintances and have a mutual agreement to do so."

"What, are we not acquaintances?"

"I drop my acquaintance with you from this point forward. Now shoo."

"Are you telling me to get to my office via the fire escape?"

"What if I am?"

"Will you be sorry I died on the 58th floor due to dehydration and extreme physical exertion?"

"I'll consider it."

"Dear Lizzie! Heart of stone! Why must you be so cold?"

Larry waved his arms like he was in agony before clutching at his heart. He then fell to his knees and closed his eyes, just as the elevator dinged open.

Lizzie merely rolled her eyes at his theatrics and motioned to the open elevator.

"Get in, will you? We look like idiots standing out here, with an available elevator waiting."

Larry immediately stood up, smiled, and marched into the elevator after Lizzie. The door closed, and Lizzie looked away from him uncomfortably as they stood next to each other in the elevator.

All of a sudden, Larry's loud laugh broke the silence between them.

"What's the matter with you today, Larry?" exclaimed an exasperated Lizzie.

"You seemed down today, so I wanted to cheer you up."

"By making yourself look like an idiot? That's what you always do anyway."

"You cut me deep, Lizzie. You cut me real deep just now."

"Where did you learn that line?" said Lizzie dryly.

"Are you accusing me of being unoriginal? If so, you are mistaken because I make up my own lines, thank you very much."

"Is 'I'll be back' your own line? You've used that one countless times."

"Of course it is! Old Arnold stole that line off me, thank you."

"Yes, sure."

Lizzie stared at the buttons in the elevator. She had a sneaking suspicion that Larry was meaning to tell her something important, but was just trying to find the correct way to say it. She wondered why he couldn't just get to it.

"Larry, what is it?" she asked.

"What's what? I didn't say anything."

"You're beating around the bush, Larry, and I know it. Tell me what you want to say."

Lizzie folded her arms, and gazed intently at him. He crumpled visibly before her.

"The truth is, Lizzie. I've been meaning to tell you all this time…I just didn't know how to put it."

"Get to it, Larry." said Lizzie impatiently.

"Lizzie, I'm a jerk."

Lizzie blinked. This was what he was meant to tell her? What the hell?! Like as if she didn't know that already!

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I just wanted to see what your reaction would be like. Oh, that was funny."

"Larry!"

"Fine! I just wanted to know what you think about ol' Darcy coming back here."

The elevator door opened, and Lizzie quickly walked out. Saved by the elevator. No, she didn't want to tell Larry what she thought. Did she even know what she thought? Her thoughts were a mess, and she couldn't make heads or tails out of it. She walked briskly to her office, hoping that Larry took the hint and went to his own. But she could hear his tread and knew that he was following her.

"Larry, why do you need to know?" she asked, still walking.

Larry sped up to walk at her side.

"Because I'm interested. I know you and Darcy had a past together. He told me so."

"He told you? That was private. How dare he!"

"Look, Lizzie. You know we were friends in college, right? Well, I noticed that sometimes he looked really down-even depressed. I asked him why, but he didn't tell me at first. Then Darcy told me that he'd had a relationship with a girl in high school and her name was Elizabeth Bennet. But then something went horribly wrong and he felt terrible for what he did to her. That's pretty much all he told me."

"That still labels him as bastard." muttered Lizzie darkly.

Lizzie opened her office door harshly and dumped her things onto the table. Larry followed her in and closed the door.

"Really, Lizzie, what do you think of working in his company?"

Lizzie pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were blazing.

"You want to know what I think? I think that it sucks like hell. I think that it's horribly wrong for me to work for him. I think I'll quit, except for the fact that my sister told me to give the guy a second chance even though I don't think that he deserves a second chance, especially after what you've just told me."

"Know what Lizzie? Your sister's right. You should give him a second chance." he said, crossing his arms.

Lizzie glared at him and pushed her hair out of her face.

"If all you know is what you've told me, then you're no judge to tell me whether or not I should give him a second chance." whispered Lizzie dangerously.

"Lizzie, be reasonable. That was nine years ago! Surely you can't hold a grudge forever. And Darcy wants a fresh start…I think."

"What do you mean, I think?" asked Lizzie suspiciously, "Oh, you know, don't you!"

Larry looked sheepish, and started to edge to the door. He'd said a bit too much, he realised.

"What did he tell you? Wait. Did he plan this? Did he hire me on purpose?"

Lizzie was half hysterical. The nerve of the man! How could Darcy do this to her, again? Why would he do this to her? She wanted to cry, but was far too angry to do so.

"Answer me, Wickham." she said.

"Yes, he did. Lizzie, he wanted to help you. Really. He still remembers what he did, and he thinks this is a way to repair everything. It will get better, Lizzie. He's going to try. Trust him."

" 'Trust him' " Lizzie snarled, "I trusted him. It didn't work. I'm sorry, Larry. I can't trust him. Not again. Not ever again."

Larry looked at her, sitting on her desk with her hair in a mess and her arms clutched at her sides. And he sighed.

"Don't worry. I won't ask you again." he said softly, and walked out of her office.

Lizzie didn't even look up to see him go. She sat at her desk without any movement, trapped in a daze that rendered her unable to think. If she thought, everything would crash on top of her and she would scream. She needed to be strong.

Lizzie finally looked around her, at her office, and the view. So all this was a set up? If it wasn't for Darcy, would she have gotten the job? She had often wondered why the interview had gone by so easily and how everyone seemed to know her. She had assumed it was because of Larry, with his happy-go-lucky attitude and gossiping. But it could have also been Darcy. Had he wanted everyone to be nice to her, in order to _tempt _her to stay?

"I hate this." she muttered.

But she had promised Jane, and promises with Jane were not to be taken lightly. She would try to get along, she resolved. Back to square one. Acquaintances. No more, no less. Employer and employee.

She sat on her chair, and pulled herself up to the desk. Employer and employee, she reminded herself. Lizzie stared at her computer then. Why not? Dig up some information. That's what employers and employees did, right?

"Okay. Fitzwilliam Darcy." she muttered, typing in Google.

She blinked in surprise at the number of hits. Two million?! God, either this man was famous or had a popular name. Lizzie snorted. As if "Fitzwilliam" was a popular name.

She clicked the first link – Wikipedia, (obviously).

And there it was, a long page about Fitzwilliam Darcy with a corny picture of him on the top right-hand corner. Lizzie had to admit, he was handsome. With dark blue eyes, wavy dark brown hair, and a Grecian profile, he was probably every lady's dream. Add to that the fact that he earned $125.6 million per year, and his bachelor status and he was probably one of the hottest men on the market. He probably ranked higher than most movie stars.

But that didn't mean Lizzie was falling for him again. In fact, it convinced Lizzie that he hadn't changed on bit. He was still hogging the limelight and living it up. A snob. She chose to ignore the telltale signs of worry and stress on his face (he had the beginning of wrinkles on his forehead, at the age of 27) and a touch of melancholy in his eyes.

_**Fitzwilliam Edward Darcy **__(born April 17, 1981) is an American businessman who serves as the CEO and the Chairman of the Board of __Perigee Delta.__ He succeeded Forrest Nicholson in June 2005, after the Board of Directors pressured Nicholson to resign. This unprecedented event made Darcy the youngest CEO on record, having attained CEO position at the age of 24. Previously, Darcy had been President of Global Beauty Care and Europe for PD. _

_Darcy earned a BCom from Stanford University in 2002. He undertook a cadetship with Perigee Delta, which led him to be named one of the rising stars in business. _

_He is credited with revitalising the company by starting new lines and new brands. He has been successful in recreating the image of Perigee Delta, and managing a once stagnant company. Darcy's short period of time as CEO has seen much change in the company, with the acquisition of the Solaire tanning lotion, the Gumdrop chewing gum, and lately the Cherish hair shampoo._

"What the heck?" yelped Lizzie.

She didn't want to read anymore. It was far too much. When had Darcy gone from basketball captain to business magnate? But something kept her eyes glued to the page, as she read through every single word.

_**Net Worth: **__US$345.7 million_

_**Spouse(s): **__None_

_**Children: **__None_

And the whole second half of the page seemed to be dedicated to Darcy as a hottie bachelor, as it repeated over and over Darcy's bachelor status. "Most eligible bachelor in the USA!" "Most desired man in the world!" The titles kept repeating, until Lizzie was almost sick. If only they knew. Darcy was so not the most eligible, single, no-baggage man in the world.

Finally, Lizzie stopped reading, and covered her eyes with her hands. Too much. It was too much. But at least she knew more now. Probably more than she wanted to know. She knew he had dated Kimberly Stewart, Hayden Panetierre – even Jessica Alba – and a whole load of other women over the years. Apparently, he put too much emphasis on work, and so the relationship always ended up going out like a weak candle flame. That made him one of the most notorious players on the market.

Part of that, at least, sounded like him.

Lizzie took one last look of the page before closing it. That was all the "research" she was going to do, she promised herself. From now on, Darcy was strictly off limits. The information she had garnered was just enough for an employee, she figured. And that was going to stay that way.

"Hey Lizzie!"

Lizzie almost jumped and looked at the door. Charlotte had come in, and she didn't look too happy for some reason.

"Lizzie, why didn't you call when you got to the office?"

"I had a lot on my mind."

"What? I was worried about you! Who knows what could have happened on your way to work."

Lizzie smiled. Charlotte was rather mother-hen-like sometimes.

"I had a run-in with Mr. Darcy. And then a long, meaningful conversation with Larry."

Lizzie laughed when Charlotte's eyes went huge.

"Seriously?! Since when does Larry ever engage in long, meaningful conversations?"

"I know. I would have laughed, but I was so shocked myself."

"Will you tell me what you talked about?"

Lizzie looked at Charlotte's shining, amused eyes. She was a good friend. But Lizzie didn't feel comfortable telling her. She had been so used to keeping everything inside, telling her thoughts only to Jane and her father. It wasn't healthy, but Lizzie couldn't – wouldn't – let anyone else into her confidence. And the reason was probably in the building right now.

"We talked about Mr. Darcy and how good a CEO he is," Lizzie lied.

"That all?" asked Charlotte, slightly disappointed, "Well, can't wait to tell the others! Larry engaged in a deep and meaningful conversation!"

"Oh Charlotte, you're such a gossipmonger."

"I am, aren't I?" agreed Charlotte, with a laugh.

"Oh Lizzie, did you hear? Apparently we have a Thanksgiving ball or something in a week or so."

Lizzie could see Charlotte brighten up considerably. Obviously, the girl liked parties and probably dancing. Lizzie enjoyed them because she liked the party atmosphere, but unlike her younger sisters, she didn't live off of them.

"How big is it?" Lizzie asked.

"Oh, one of the biggest in the year! Not as big as the Christmas and New Year ball, of course. Lizzie, you must come shopping with me."

Shopping-exactly what every girl dreamed of. And Lizzie was like every other woman on that aspect. She liked to dress well and shopping was the only way to achieve that.

"Definitely." agreed Lizzie.

Charlotte immediately hugged Lizzie and started talking excitedly about what they could buy, how they were going to prepare for it, and their budget.

"Whoa, Charlotte," laughed Lizzie, "We're not even at the mall yet."

"Since when does that matter? Girl, we are going shopping!"

Whoever said that solicitors were boring?

"My, someone's not doing their work."

Charlotte and Lizzie twirled to look at the door, making up excuses as quickly as possible. And then relaxed, to find it was only Larry. Lizzie gritted her teeth. What more did he want?

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Lizzie. I did what I had to do. Anyway, the boss wants you in his office. Now."

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. Had Larry told Darcy everything she had said to him before? He had better not have, or else he was dead. Worse than dead. Dead as in punished in full-blown hell.

"What did I do?" she asked, with accusation heavy in her voice.

"I don't know. I'm only his messenger." replied Larry nonchalantly. He didn't give anything away.

"Go on Lizzie, he doesn't bite. He glares though! Be careful of that." said Charlotte, unaware of the staring match between Larry and Lizzie.

"I'm going then." Lizzie sighed.

And she walked out of her office, slowly feeling worse with every step she took.

Time to face him. Alone, it seemed.

* * *

Sorry for the delay for this chapter! I will, of course, offer an excuse - I have my School Certificate coming up, and I'm studying. Sort of. Not really. But anyway.

Thanks for reading, dear readers! And please review. Reviews are much appreciated.


	4. Tongue Tied

_Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I'm rewarding everyone with an fast update (well, faster than my other chapters =] ) Hope you all enjoy this chapter ~ here's the long-awaited confrontation! Get ready, because Darcy's going to cop an earful._

_Once again, a big thank you to my awesome beta, Illusiional Ice. Without her, half of the story wouldn't make sense..._

_**Soundtrack:** Apologize – Timbaland (perfect for this chapter!)_

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy was used to the limelight.

He had been the high school basketball captain, which meant that he was the highest profile guy in the school. He had been the number one hottie in his university. He had also been the star student in his university, graduating with a shower of achievements and merits. He had loved the attention; he had loved being looked up to.

But he had also hated being harassed.

However, being one of the most influential men in business meant that he was almost continuously harassed.

"Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy!"

Crowds of people and cameras had gathered, all wanting to hear from him. And he was sick of it. He didn't want to answer the same question ten thousand times. He didn't want to continue smiling – or at least consistently keep putting on a straight face. He didn't want to be spat at, or tailed, or fawned over so excessively. All he could think of was "Fuck. Off."

Still, he answered the questions without grimacing. He nonchalantly wiped of little bits of spit from his Giorgio Armani suit. And he walked quickly, at the speed of a jog. If he was an Olympic marathon walker, he could have probably won the gold.

"Angelina." he said, motioning for his personal secretary to come forward, "How much longer must I do this?"

"It's only been four minutes, Mr Darcy. I think another ten minutes? Don't worry, you're doing great."

Darcy rolled his eyes. He liked Angelina; she was efficient, quick thinking, and pretty. But sometimes he couldn't stand her perkiness. She smiled far too much, and always seemed so optimistic. Yes, her support did help Darcy to make it through the long interviews and press conferences. But it always bordered on being downright annoying.

"Well, I'm not doing it out here. Inside the building will be better."

And he started walking again, still talking with the desperate journalists trying to get something new out of him. Darcy knew they were being paid for what he said, and that's what irked him. They would sell any piece of information. Even if it was strictly personal and none of their business, they would sell it. Because then the journalist would be on a fast track to fame – just because they found out some juicy tidbit about some celebrity's personal life.

"Mr Darcy! Which presidential candidate do you support?"

That question surprised him. He turned around, looking frantically for Angelina. She would have the right answer for sure.

"Uhh…Barrack Obama!" he said, reading correctly Angelina's lip movements.

He grinned. He'd dodged an unforeseen question – with the help of his secretary, of course. But he wasn't smiling for much longer when he walked straight into a lady.

Suddenly, the ground whooshed up to meet him. His head buried itself into a nest of brown hair. He didn't want to know where his hands were.

God, he was at his wit's end already. This just pushed him over the edge. He could feel the looks from the journalists, and their calculating gazes. How much would this sell for?

"Watch it, lady." he growled.

And he quickly stood up, and brushed off the little bits of dirt that now clung onto his suit. Oh dear, he was going to hear about this from his housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds. She had specifically told him not to ruin this suit, which had apparently belonged to his father.

Darcy looked back at the lady he had fallen on. She was staring at him, still on the floor. What was her problem? Oh, he knew. She was swooning over the fact that Fitzwilliam Darcy had just run into her. Great. Was she going to think that he owed her a favour because he had fallen on top of her or that he was in love with her now? Good luck with that.

He glared at her. She had just made his bad day even worse.

And now the journalists were rushing in, enclosing him and the lady. What were they going to fabricate this time?

He darted another look at the lady. And something caught his eye, before he looked away. Hazel eyes. They looked familiar. Why though, why?

He looked again. Great, did the journalists catch that? Did they think there was going to be love at first sight, and a budding romance? But he pushed those thoughts away, when he noticed the brown hair, determined chin, and heart shaped face. Something in his brain clicked, and a thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. His heart thudded painfully. It couldn't be, could it?

"Mr Darcy! Are you alright?" asked Angelina.

"Goodness sake, how come no one warned me about this person here?" he muttered angrily.

"We didn't see her. I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again."

"Let's just get this over with, Angelina."

Darcy glanced again at the lady, who had stood up now. He made his face as impassive as possible; he didn't want to give those all too watchful journalists any hint of recognition. They were wolves. Obviously she was thinking the same thing.

"I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean to knock into you. How foolish of me." she said.

Darcy felt his cheeks fill with heat, and blushed scarlet. Was it shame? Technically he had walked into her, and here she was apologizing to him. Embarrassment also crept in when she smiled nonchalantly, and walked away with grace. Did she know it was him? If she did, how was she taking this in?

"Mr Darcy! Do you know that woman?"

Darcy returned his concentration to the task at hand. Six more minutes. He could get through this. And then he would have to find a way to apologise for that incident, as well as everything else. Why did he always make things worse?

"Mr Darcy?"

"No, I do not," he said at last. "She must be a new employee here."

"Mr Darcy! Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Darcy muttered, feeling annoyed once more.

Five more minutes.

It was a bad idea to go into the building after all. Now all the questions reverberated noisily, making Darcy think that he would be trapped in a maelstrom of never ending questions.

Three minutes.

Seriously, was time going slower just to torture him? He could swear it was. The second hand of his watch seemed to be lagging. He tapped at it, before sighing. This had to pass quickly, because he had to think.

Elizabeth. What was he going to do after this was over? He needed to think of some way to approach her and tell her. He had to formulate a plan. If it had been anyone else doing so, he would have laughed at them. Formulate a plan to say something to an ex-girlfriend? What the heck? But he was far from laughing now.

"Mr Darcy! Will there be further trips to Europe in the near future?"

Yes! Angelina was giving him a discreet thumbs up, meaning it was the last question.

"Not for a year. However, if the need arises, I will be going."

Darcy smiled, though he knew it looked more like a grimace. It was over. That must have been one of the hardest question and answer gig he had ever done.

He looked at the departing journalists and cameramen without a single sign of discontent on his face. He was tired, he was annoyed, and now he felt the beginnings of dread stir. What was he going to do with Lizzie?

"Mr Darcy, that was just fine. You handled the run-in with that lady well. No scandal!"

Darcy raised his eyebrows and gazed at Angelina tiredly. He didn't do anything. She did. She had brushed off the journalists with two sentences, and that was something not everyone could do, especially since the journalists were ready to milk the incident for all – and more – than it was worth.

"Angelina, go get yourself some coffee or something."

Angelina looked confused for a split second, then immediately brightened again and nearly skipped off to the coffee shop. Darcy watched her walk, amazed at how she could seem so very happy and jovial. She seemed so young compared to him, though there was probably only two or three years difference.

"I feel like a grandpa." muttered Darcy to himself.

"Mr Darcy! Welcome back!" greeted Claudia from the front desk.

Darcy suppressed a groan, and walked up to the desk.

"Morning, Miss Lewis. How are you today?" he asked politely.

"Just fine and dandy, Mr Darcy. I suppose you want a report on how we were going in your absence?"

"No thank you," replied Darcy hastily, "I'd rather not know what Larry has been doing while I was away."

Claudia laughed prettily, and nearly fluttered her eyelashes.

"Don't worry, Mr Darcy, your office is in good order. I made sure of that for you."

It was rather disconcerting to know that Larry had been using his office. But Darcy had allowed it, albeit half heartedly.

"Thanks, Miss Lewis. I'm glad to be back." Not that he really was.

"Sure thing, Mr Darcy! We're glad to have you back."

Darcy smiled in answer, and walked towards the elevators. Now he was going to concentrate, and think about how he was going to apologise to Lizzie Bennet for the incident that morning, and everything else before.

Simple? No.

The truth was that Darcy didn't know where to begin. Was he supposed to comment on how nice she looked, how the weather was, enquire about her family, and then get to the point? No, he wasn't like Larry. He wasn't going to say "Hey babe, you look gorgeous. Oh yeah, it's such a nice day." And then drop everything down like a ton of bricks.

He used to do that, but now he had changed. He was a gentleman. Or, at least, he was meant to be. He didn't feel like a gentleman then, though.

Darcy drummed his fingers on the sides of the elevator. How was Lizzie going to react? He'd wondered much on what would happen. He'd known that it would be a challenge, after the way they parted. What would she do, if they not only saw each other again, but had to work together?

Other girls Darcy could predict. They would cry, weep, sob, and then nag. Why? Why? Why?! That's what they would ask. Darcy could handle those. With presents, a kiss, and a declaration of undying love they would be won over. And then he would slowly alienate them, using work as a shield. And then the problem would be gone.

But Lizzie was unpredictable. Would she cry? Would she simply walk out without a word? Or would she yell at him? The last possibility seemed most likely. But he wasn't sure.

Darcy leaned his head against the elevator walls. He had been such a jerk. He couldn't forget what he had done. No matter how much he had wanted to, he couldn't. Darcy pressed his hand over his eyes.

"_Hey Darcy! Looking for Lizzie, right?"_

_Darcy looked surprised when Lydia answered the door, wearing a very short mini skirt and a tank top. Usually it was Lizzie, who bounded out of the door to give Darcy a hug. Darcy wondered whether something had happened. _

"_Uhh…yeah. She's at home, right?" he asked tentatively._

_Lydia raised her eyebrows, as if wondering why he was asking. _

"_Yeah, she's at home. Why wouldn't she be?"_

_Darcy shrugged, and followed Lydia into the Bennet's home. He was probably just overacting. Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. Lizzie was just in her room, perhaps doing some homework or__ working on__ her English essay. _

_Lizzie's door was closed when Darcy reached it. That, once again, was slightly strange. Lizzie never closed her door. But Darcy pushed away the thought. Why was he overreacting so much? He hadn't done something wrong. But, for some reason, his heart thudded erratically as if something was going to happen._

"_Lizzie?" Darcy said, opening the door._

_Something whizzed past Darcy's head, making him cry out in surprise. He heard a chuckle, and spun around to see Lizzie sitting on her bed, throwing darts at the dartboard. She looked extremely amused._

"_What the heck?" _

_Lizzie lifted her eyebrows and then continued to throw darts. _

"_Lizzie, are you alright?" asked Darcy. Something wasn't right after all._

"_I'm fine." replied Lizzie abruptly, not looking at him._

_Darcy wondered what had happened. Had he done something wrong? He walked hesitantly towards Lizzie, and sat down next to her. She stopped throwing darts, and turned to smile at him. Then she started throwing darts again. Darcy looked confused. Normally she would have thrown her arms around him. Normally she would have started chatting animatedly about her day, or something else. But she wasn't today. _

"_Did I do something wrong?"_

"_No, you didn't." smiled Lizzie._

_She stopped throwing darts once more, and turned to hug him. Darcy relaxed. Perhaps it was just a girl thing. She seemed to be over it now._

"_I love you__,__ Darcy." Lizzie whispered._

_Hearing her say it always made him feel warm and excited. But for some reason, it sounded strangely mocking this time. Darcy tried to ignore the feeling. Lizzie loved him. He loved her. Those were almost the facts of life. Still, the feeling refused to subside. Something was wrong, and he needed to find out._

"_Lizzie, something's wrong. What is it?"_

_Lizzie looked confused, and Darcy suddenly felt like an idiot. He was overreacting. Why, though? Tension was hanging in the air, but it seemed like only he could feel it. Lizzie cocked her head to the right, and smiled, as if trying to figure something out. Lizzie's smile seemed not so friendly all of a sudden. But that wasn't right. That couldn't be right._

"_Darcy, nothing's wrong! Why are you so tense?" asked Lizzie innocently._

_It was just an overreaction after all. Darcy relaxed and smiled back. He hugged Lizzie back, and then pressed his lips onto hers. Darcy felt Lizzie's finger twine into his hair as they always did, and kissed her deeper. He touched Lizzie's face, stroking her soft cheeks. _

_She broke the kiss._

"_Darcy, I love you." she whispered once more._

"_I know." he replied smugly, "I love you too."_

_Lizzie paused. Then she whispered directly into his ear, "I want to spend my whole life with you. I want to love you until the day I die. I want to marry you, and have children, and still love you when we are old and grey and wrinkly."_

_The words were direct and confronting. Darcy was speechless. Lizzie had never said that before. It was almost scary, the way it demanded devotion and care and eternal loving. Darcy knew he wasn't ready for "forever." But he needed to reply, he needed to say something. Right now, he was looking like an idiot with his mouth open._

"_Lizzie, I will love you forever." he replied, but he didn't look at her._

"_You will love me, and only me, forever?" asked Lizzie._

"_Yes."_

"_You won't look at another girl?"_

_There was a long pause. Darcy looked at Lizzie, wondering whether she knew. But she was waiting for an answer. He had to reply. And his tongue betrayed him._

"_Yes."_

_Lizzie stiffened immediately, and shoved Darcy off the bed. Darcy knew __then that __she knew and he didn't know what to do. Her eyes were flashing with anger, and her fists were clenched. She looked pretty damn mad._

"_Liar." she hissed._

"_Lizzie, don't take it that way…I love you…"_

"_Why do you love me, Darcy?"_

_The question struck Darcy off guard._

"_Lizzie, who wouldn't?" he said pathetically._

"_Answer me!"_

"_You're pretty, and beautiful. And basketball captains and cheerleaders are supposed to be together…"_

_They__ stared at each other in horror for a whole minute._

"_I trusted you, Darcy. You said I could trust you. You said that you would never hurt me. You said that you would never look at another girl, because you had me." Lizzie whispered._

_Darcy __tried to think of something. But nothing came to mind. A kind of fear paralysed him, and all he could do was look at her hopelessly. _

_Then Lizzie smiled. _

_She _smiled_._

"_Darcy, we're over."_

_And Darcy gawked at her, trying to grasp the words. She said it with such control. It was almost cold. __Only her__ eyes gave her away. _

_Darcy__ looked at her helplessly, and then nodded and walked out of the door__ and out of her life._

He never knew how much he had hurt her until Jane called him two days later, cursing him for destroying her sister's life. She'd been crying for two days straight, and counting. He had been shocked that Jane had it in her to yell at him.

And then his father told him they were moving to California. Normally he would have complained, but he had agreed to it half heartedly even though it was in the middle of his last year in high school. So, a month afterward, he was out of her life for good.

Or so he thought.

Darcy had seen her application for solicitor at the company with mixed emotions. He had considered simply discounting her application, so he would not need to face her again. He had told himself it was better that way for both of them. But then, as he held the application above the bin, he'd remembered her horror-struck face, and her pain filled eyes. Maybe this was a chance to make it right.

Fate had given him a chance to apologise. That's what he told himself, anyway.

But now he wasn't so sure it was a good idea.

He sighed loudly and covered his mouth with his hands. Think, he told himself, think. There must be some way to do this. Some way that won't end up with Lizzie yelling at him. But then again, he could handle a yelling Lizzie. He deserved a good yelling. He didn't think he could handle a silent, stone-like Lizzie anyways.

The door creaked open, and Darcy waited for the person to announce himself or herself. Would it be Lizzie, coming here to yell at him?

"Mr Darcy, I'm back! And I've brought you a caramel latte."

Darcy bowed his head in amusement, and cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Angelina. I think I'll need it."

Angelina smiled, and placed the coffee on his table triumphantly. Then she glanced at him sideways, a curious look in her eyes.

"What is it, Angelina? Did I forget to shave?" he asked.

"No, sir!" she replied quickly, "You look marvellous, just like you always do, Mr Darcy!"

She was like a little rabbit. Always bouncing, always jovial. Darcy would have been annoyed on any other day, but today he needed a little distraction, and Angelina was perfect for that.

"Angelina, is there anything important that I must do?"

"Nope, I don't think so, Mr Darcy."

"Okay, thank you."

With another smile, Angelina walked towards the door, only to say "Oh!" and rush back.

"Mr Wickham's coming, Mr Darcy!" she said quickly.

Darcy stood up. Larry often came to his office for trivial reasons, which Darcy allowed. It usually was Larry talking about some girl, and Darcy nodding without actually listening. As long as Larry didn't progress to annoying Darcy while he was doing work, it was fine.

But perhaps this time was different.

"Darcy, my old buddy, it's good to see you back!"

Larry walked into the office with a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched. Darcy dodged the hug with ease.

"What, not even going to give your old bud a hug?" Larry asked, mock hurt.

"Larry, what are you here for?"

Darcy needed to know what he was going to say.

"Direct as ever, I see. Ladies so do not dig that, Darcy. Isn't that right, Angelina?"

Angelina blushed furiously.

"Larry, I'd appreciate it if you were less silly. Angelina, you can go now."

Larry watched Angelina go.

"Phew, she's hot. I mean, look at those legs. Darcy, lighten up, and go bed your secretary."

Darcy, who was drinking his coffee, spluttered.

"What?! This is a workplace, Larry, not some kind of bar."

"I'm kidding, Darce. But you need to lighten up." laughed Larry.

"No, you need to dampen down. I'll have to demote you _once again _if you continue like this."

"You wouldn't, Darce!" whispered Larry in mock horror.

"Try me."

"I'd rather not." winked Larry.

Darcy glared at him, then sat down and rubbed his eyes.

"What is it, Larry?"

"Impatient, are we? Okay, okay. I had a little tête-à-tête with Miss Lizzie Bennet just then."

Darcy stared at Larry, who had seated himself casually in the chair in front of the desk. A thousand possibilities sprung into mind. What had Larry done?

"Larry, please tell me you didn't tell her."

"Tell what?" asked Larry innocently.

"That I hired her on purpose!"

"Oh that? Of course not!"

Darcy snorted in disbelief. The day Larry kept secrets was the day of the apocalypse.

"Yes, I told her." Larry admitted sheepishly.

Darcy groaned. He knew that he shouldn't have told Larry. But he had needed someone he could trust to "hire" her, and Larry was it. Even though he couldn't keep a secret.

"It slipped out, alright! I didn't mean to do so."

"Never mind. I should have known better than to let you keep a secret."

"That hurts Darcy, that does."

"Whatever, Larry." he said in disgust.

Darcy stood up, and looked out into the city. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Larry's irrationality right now.

"I can see that I'm not wanted here, so I suppose I'll be going."

Darcy spun around quickly, and glared at Larry.

"Oh look, now you turn around." said Larry smugly.

"Larry, please?"

Darcy had to admit, he was used to getting his way; as CEO of a multi-billion dollar company he had a lot of leverage. But now he was pleading – with Larry, of all people! But this was important to him. Darcy really wanted to know how Lizzie had responded. He was almost desperate – but desperation wasn't a pretty sight in a man, so he kept it in check. Barely.

"She said that you were a bastard to begin with. And then she said that working with you sucks like hell, and that it's horribly wrong. She thinks you don't deserve a second chance. But don't worry! Lizzie promised her sister to give you a second chance, so I don't think she's going to quit…at least not immediately."

Darcy groaned again and cradled his head. It was just as bad as he had thought.

"Oh yeah, she says she can't trust you, ever again."

Larry watched Darcy slump onto his desk. He had never seen Darcy look so beaten.

"Come on, Darcy! It's not that bad. Well, it is pretty bad. Seriously, what did you do to that girl?"

Darcy looked at Larry with glazed eyes.

"I'll cut it short. She gave me her heart. I trampled it to little bitty pieces. And then I left her. Happy?"

Larry whistled, "And I thought _I _was the heartbreaker. Darce, you've got to learn how to manage break-ups properly."

Darcy glared at Larry again, and sat up straight.

"This was _nine years ago_ as you know very well. I've learnt. You bet I've learnt."

"Whoa. I'm not judging you or anything. I think I've had too much heavy conversation today. I'll be going."

Darcy watched incredulously as Larry simply walked out of the office, waving his hand dramatically. They had such a strange friendship. But that wasn't important now, compared to what he had just heard.

So, Lizzie basically hated him. He had hoped – well, wished – that she had somehow gotten over it and got herself into other relationships that ended even worse than theirs. Apparently that was not the case. So now it looked like he would have to throw himself down onto the floor and plead for forgiveness. And even then she would probably not accept his apologies. Still, wasn't it worth a shot? It had a fail factor of about 75%, but surely he could try?

No. He definitely wouldn't do plead for forgiveness. He knew that much about himself. Quite simply, his pride would not let him do it.

Darcy looked out at the city again. He remembered his first day as CEO, and the sense of vertigo he had received just looking down. He hadn't been scared though, just exhilarated. He had felt he was on top of the world. What wonders could he achieve? What marks could he leave behind?

But now it was just a view of the city.

He watched the buses, cars and people mill below him, and tried to lose himself to the ebb and flow of the city. There was no point reflecting on what he'd found out. He knew already, in a sense. He had known ever since she had broken up with him. He deserved every bit of her scorn, every ounce of her dislike. But he wished that he could win her back. Not necessarily as lovers once more, but as friends. He felt he had to try, even though it was probably a road to failure.

Darcy heard his office door open once more. Was it Larry again? Was it Angelina? Was it _Lizzie? _Had she come to confront him? He closed his eyes, willing himself to turn around.

"Do I look that scary?" asked an all too familiar voice.

Lizzie's voice sounded amused. But Darcy wasn't ready to turn around, nor speak. He knew that silence was stretching awkwardly between them, but he couldn't bring himself to begin talking about all the things that he wanted to.

"How are you, Lizzie?" he managed at last.

He was mildly pleased. His voice hadn't shaken, and he had said her name without choking, or some other absurd reaction. Maybe he could get through this after all.

"Oh, not bad. Someone fell on me, I found out my job was a set up, I'm talking to a bastard I never hoped to see in this life again – but I'm fine. Totally fine. Never been better."

Lizzie's voice sounded pleasant, but the words immediately dissolved Darcy's hope of getting through it all without problems. It flung his confidence into reverse. And he was just getting ready to turn around and face her like a man!

He gulped. No, he wasn't going to give up so easily. He was going to try again.

"How's your family, Lizzie?" he asked, in the same forced voice.

There was a long pause. He wondered what Lizzie was doing. Was she still there?

"Don't call me Lizzie, Mr Darcy. I'm not your girlfriend anymore."

So it had finally started. Darcy almost breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew it would come across her the wrong way. He finally turned around. He looked at her staring impassively at the windows. She was paler than when he had run into her in the morning, but asides from that there was nothing to suggest that she was distressed.

"I know, Miss Bennet. But I want us to be friends."

Lizzie's hazel eyes locked onto his, and he felt himself stiffen like as if he had been struck by lightning. Darcy felt like he was falling, just like he always did when he used to look into her eyes nine years ago. He looked deep into them, gazing at how they changed from green to brown, and brown to green. Right now, there were some flecks of gold that sparkled brilliantly in her eyes. He tried to stop staring into them, but couldn't. He finally managed to look away.

"I can't be friends with people I can't trust, people that break promises, and people who don't care for another person's feelings. Mr Darcy, we can't be friends."

"Liz-Miss Bennet, I've changed. I'm not the person I was before."

Lizzie smiled humourlessly.

"No, you're not the person you were before. You're even less than the person you were before."

Darcy sat down at his desk, and stared at his hands. He had to change tactics, it seemed.

"L-Miss Bennet, I'm sorry for knocking into you before. I'm sorry for not saying sorry. I was in a bad mood, but that's no excuse. I was incredibly rude." he said quietly, hoping she would hear him clearly.

"You say 'that's no excuse,' yet you provide an excuse. Mr Darcy, I will not humour you. Everything you did was a stroke against yourself. Nothing you do now will erase them. So don't even try."

"Lizzie-"

"Miss Bennet!" interrupted Lizzie.

"Miss Bennet, I'm not trying to erase them. But I want to restart our…acquaintance. Surely we can be acquaintances? I can't ask for more than that."

Lizzie pursed her lips. Darcy looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Why did you employ me?" she hissed.

Darcy's mouth opened, and then closed. He should have known she would ask. Damn Larry, for telling her!

"Selfish reasons, Miss Bennet. I wanted a chance to correct the wrongs of the past. I wanted to make it up to you. I felt – I felt sorry for you."

Lizzie's eyes locked onto his again, and he knew he had said something wrong. What was it? He stood up, ready to apologize for whatever he had said wrong.

"You felt sorry for me. Sorry?! No, Mr Darcy, I should feel sorry for you. You have no heart. You've convinced me of that. I can't believe I didn't see it earlier. But I'll allow myself an excuse. I was young, and naïve. But no more. Mr Darcy, I'm going to walk out, just like you walked out on me nine years ago. And maybe we'll stay out of each other's lives for the next nine years, preferably for the rest of our lives."

Lizzie turned to walk away. Darcy moved instinctively to her, knowing that he had to do something. He couldn't allow Lizzie to walk away like he had done before. He had to apologize. He had to. But it was the wrong thing to do. Lizzie saw him reaching for her, and didn't hesitate.

_SLAP!_

The sound echoed discordantly through the large office. Darcy clutched his cheek in shock. He looked at Lizzie standing in front of him, her eyes blazing and her chest heaving. She slowly put down the hand she had just imprinted on Darcy's cheek.

"I'm only your employee, Mr Darcy. So don't treat me as anyone more."

And she walked out, leaving Darcy listening to the clip-clop of her high heel shoes.

It took several minutes before Darcy regained enough sense to lower his hand from his face and walk slowly to his desk. He sat down with a groan and stared straight ahead at the painting of flowers in spring at the other end of the office. What was he going to do now?

The phone rang.

Darcy stared at it, wondering if he should just ignore it. His voice would probably shake uncontrollably if he picked it up. But he did it anyway, with a sigh.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy, Chief Executive Officer of Perigee Delta speaking." he muttered dully.

"_Whoa Darcy, you sound dead. I take it your little meeting with Lizzie didn't go so well?"_

"Larry, did you tell her to go up and meet me?" hissed Darcy.

"_Yeah. I thought you needed it. Badly. But maybe it was a mistake…"_

"Goddamn it Larry, of course it was a mistake!" yelled Darcy angrily.

"_Hey, calm down! What happened anyway?"_

"She didn't yell at me. But she slapped me. Really hard."

Darcy touched his stinging cheek with a grimace. If he was unlucky, he was going to have a big purple bruise soon.

"_I shouldn't be saying this but…you deserved it, Darce."_

"Thanks, Larry." said Darcy dryly, "Know what? Fuck. Off."

And he slammed the phone down. Well, at least he got those words off his chest.

* * *

_A quicker update - are you proud? They're going to be slightly slower for a while, because of ... life._

_Anyway, look forward to a Lizzie and Jane reunion, a girl's shopping outing - and, of course, the Thanksgiving Ball!_


	5. Girls Only

_Sorry for not updating for so long! But yeah, life sadly gets in the way once in a while. But I promise the next few chapters will be updated quicker, until I have to start studying for the Biology Olympiad. Yep, there's always something coming up._

_Anyway, thanks for all the reviews guys! They really inspire me to write and update quicker (hint hint!) So - this chapter's mainly Lizzie, Charlotte and Jane, but I promise there will be more Lizzie-Darcy soon. A LOT of Lizzie-Darcy, if I don't change anything =P _

_Enjoy!_

_**Soundtrack:** L.O.V.E. – Ashley Simpson _

_"__All my girls stand in a circle and clap your hands this is for you  
Ups and downs highs and lows no matter what you see me through"_

_(I love the tune, and it suits the mood)_

* * *

"Oh damn."

Lizzie jumped out of bed and looked at her new alarm clock. She was supposed to meet Charlotte at Manhattan Mall in twenty minutes. Why did she always have to wake up late? She cursed and rushed to the bathroom.

The reflection wasn't pretty. Dark bags were under her eyes again, and her hair was in complete disarray. It wasn't entirely her fault that she hadn't slept well, though. Dreams that were almost nightmares had plagued her throughout the night. They all had something to do with Darcy. Lizzie cursed Darcy under her breath. Why did he have to employ her? And why did he have to meet up with her on his first day back?

He hadn't even wanted to look at her, Lizzie remembered. And then, his cold eyes had refused to look at her for most of the time. He obviously didn't mean to apologize. He had called her "Lizzie" and talked to her in a condescending tone, almost as if he was doing her a favour. He even made it sound like they were simply old friends catching up after a long time apart!

Perhaps he had only wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. "Acquaintances." He wanted to be acquaintances with her? And yet he had said it in such a cool way that Lizzie doubted the sincerity of his words. There was no way she could trust him.

Now that she thought of it, she didn't regret slapping him either. It had actually felt pretty good.

The phone started ringing. Great. Of all times, it just had to be when she was brushing her teeth. She rushed to the phone, hoping that she wasn't drooling any toothpaste onto the carpet.

"Hello?" she mumbled, muffled by the toothbrush still stuck in her mouth.

"_Oh hey Lizzie! You __all right__? You sound sick."_

Lizzie's face stretched into a huge smile. It was Jane! Perhaps she was coming really soon? Lizzie hoped so. Jane was such a good voice of reason.

"No, I'm fine. I'm brushing my teeth."

"_Whoops, sorry Lizzie. Anyway, I will arrive at LaGuardia at four o'clock."_

"Seriously? That's great, Jane! You should have told me earlier, though."

"_I tried to! You weren't answering the phone. I left a message."_

Lizzie slapped her forehead. She had gone clubbing last night to relieve the stress she had accumulated from her "talk" with Darcy. Casey and Cheyenne had been most surprised; after all, Lizzie hadn't gone for more than a month. But they were happy to have her back, and they literally danced the night away. A very tired Lizzie had tramped home at one in the morning. She had fallen asleep the second she hit her bed.

"I'm sorry, Jane. I should have checked. Anyway, it's really good that you're coming so soon. I'll pick you up then!"

"_Thanks__,__ Lizzie. Can't wait to see you, okay? Bye!"_

"Bye, see you soon."

So, at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to now. Realizing that she was going to be late for the shopping trip with Charlotte, she rushed back into the bathroom, and attempted to break the world record for the fastest face wash and make up application. Still, she knew that she was going to be late.

Lizzie sighed, and dialled Charlotte's number on her mobile as she walked towards the bus stop.

"_Hey Lizzie. Where are you?"_

"Don't kill me Charlotte! I'm going to be late."

"_How late?" _Charlotte asked suspiciously.

"Probably thirty to forty minutes?"

"_Lizzie! When did you get up this morning?"_

Lizzie flinched at the disapproving tone. Damn, Charlotte had caught her.

"Ten-forty." she said grudgingly.

"_Well __no wonder you'll__be late.__ Silly girl! But I'm in a forgiving mood – there are _such _nice dresses here – so I'll let this one slide. __But just this once__, Lizzie! You got that?"_

Lizzie laughed, "Yes ma'am! I'll see you later then."

Now all she had to do was to wait for a bus that would take her to Manhattan Mall. Lizzie thanked god that she lived in a pretty connected area with convenient transportation. However, that meant that it was expensive and the price had only gone up after her argument with Howard Collins.

It seemed like luck was on her side today. In less than a minute, Lizzie was off on her way to Manhattan Mall, riding towards a whole day of shopping-every girls' ultimate dream. She hoped that nothing would dampen her day, and she was going to put in the effort to not even think about Darcy.

But now that she started thinking about him, she couldn't stop. Oh, that bastard. He just had come back into her life, didn't he? The break-up was probably one of the biggest mess-ups of his life, and being the perfectionist that he was, he just had to fix it, didn't he? He didn't even think about the fact that Lizzie seriously did not want to see him, not to mention, her being adamant about restarting their acquaintance.

He was a proud, selfish man, and Lizzie wanted nothing to do with him. However, that was not going to happen.

Lizzie took out her iPod and turned up the volume to block out the annoying sounds of a baby crying, a high schooler chatting animatedly to a friend on the mobile, and a mother reprimanding her son for sucking his thumb. Obviously they had not grasped the fact that this was a _bus_, and therefore a public place where they should really keep quiet for other people's sake.

Well, the baby couldn't help it, that's for sure. But Lizzie only excused that because she remembered taking care of her sisters.

Crying babies were impossible. They rarely stopped once they started, and it took hours and hours of soothing to calm them down sometimes. Sleeping babies were like little angels, and Lizzie often wondered how such a small, innocent creature could yell and scream so loudly.

Lizzie remembered what to do with crying babies. She had helped her hopeless mum take care of Lydia and Kitty after all. She remembered looking down at a puce face, contorted from screaming. She remembered feeling hopeless and tried to rock them gently. That never worked.

_You have to sing to them to calm them down._

Sing and coo like a dove. Lizzie remembered her dad laughing at her for doing so, but she had merely chucked a pillow at his face.

Finally the bus arrived at Manhattan Mall, and Lizzie nearly ran off. She was late, and she needed to find Charlotte. It was already 10:24. It wasn't as bad as Lizzie had thought – but, she was still late.

Lizzie called Charlotte again.

"Hey Charlotte? It's me again. Where are you?"

"_Lizzie, you're finally here! Wait, I'll just go meet you. Don't move, 'kay?"_

And Charlotte hung up. Did she know which bus stop Lizzie was at? Hopefully Charlotte did.

Lizzie needn't have worried, though, because two minutes later Charlotte came bounding up to Lizzie to give her a big hug.

"Lizzie! You're finally here!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"I'm sorry for being late, Charlotte."

"Nah, it's okay. You're not that late anyway."

Charlotte dragged Lizzie into the Mall and forced her into several dresses that had caught Charlotte's eye in the twenty minutes that Lizzie had not been there. She was obviously an experienced shopper. Much more experienced than Lizzie, it seemed, despite how much Lizzie loved to shop.

Lizzie lost track of how many times she went in and out of the dressing room. It always ended with Charlotte eyeing Lizzie critically, and then shaking her head.

"No, it's too long."

"No, it's too flowery."

"No, it doesn't flatter your waist enough."

The number of objections was endless. After an hour and a half of looking, Lizzie doubted that she was ever going to find a dress. Some of the dresses were extremely pretty. Lizzie had especially liked a red, strapless satin cocktail dress with a flounce on one side. But that, apparently, had clashed with her eyes.

"Red doesn't go with hazel eyes, Lizzie. And it doesn't accentuate your curves enough." That was the verdict.

"Oh Charlotte, how long will this take?" asked Lizzie.

"Until we find the right dress."

Lizzie groaned. Who knew how long that would take?

"Lizzie, go try this one."

Charlotte held up a gorgeous turquoise dress of chiffon. It had spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline, with a bodice of alternating beading and ruching. There was a ruffled high low hem to the dress. It almost glowed, and Lizzie loved it instantly. But it wasn't her decision to buy it or not. That was Charlotte's choice.

"Ta-da!"

Lizzie posed for Charlotte. Charlotte merely laughed, and told Lizzie to stay still.

"I need to look at it properly, Lizzie!" she scowled.

Lizzie froze, and let Charlotte examine her for two minutes.

"It's not half bad."

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous."

Charlotte tutted, and told Lizzie to be quiet. And then she held up another dress – this time aquamarine. Lizzie groaned.

"What? I like this one…"

"None of that! Try this one out."

It was a strapless dress of satin, with floral patterns on the bust and bodice and an uneven hem that reached her knees. It looked simpler than the one before, but it had an elegant quality to it that Lizzie found herself liking.

"So? How do I look?" asked Lizzie impatiently.

Charlotte smiled this time, and Lizzie hoped that it was the one.

"It's beautiful, Lizzie! Just as if it was made for you. Oh, look how it brings out the green in your eyes! And my, won't the men be all over you!"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. That was the last thing she wanted. But it wouldn't do to go in a paper sack, right?

"Now it's your turn, Charlotte!"

Charlotte shook her head. Lizzie frowned. What? Lizzie had looked forward to torturing Charlotte the way she had been tortured. It had taken one hour and fifty minutes! But Charlotte was shaking her head emphatically.

"I've already got mine." laughed Charlotte, holding up a rose pink strapless dress with a simple satin bow at the back.

Lizzie stared at it in shock. That wasn't fair! She had gone through all the torture knowing that she probably could do the same to Charlotte. But Charlotte had outsmarted her, it seemed.

"Charlotte!" Lizzie whined, "That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair, Lizzie. Didn't anybody tell you that?"

Lizzie pouted, but then remembered something.

"I've heard that somewhere, I think. Come on Charlotte, we still need to buy shoes and jewelry."

Charlotte's gleeful face immediately dropped.

"Damn it, I knew I forgot something." she muttered.

Lizzie laughed, and made sure she dragged Charlotte through all the pain she had gone through. It took another hour before Lizzie and Charlotte bought their shoes and jewelry. It was a good day's shopping. But Lizzie felt like she was ready to drop dead.

"Lizzie, why don't we have lunch?" asked Charlotte, whose stomach was growling.

"I think that's a smart idea."

Lizzie couldn't help but smile. This was the first time in six years that she went shopping with a friend. She had almost forgotten the joy of it. Laughing and joking with Charlotte was something which Lizzie had dearly missed over the past few years.

"Reckon we can call this outing a success?"

"Definitely!" laughed Lizzie.

Both Charlotte and Lizzie had bought their dress, shoes and matching jewelry. What more could they have wanted?

"Anyway, I'm pooped. And hungry. I think I'll eat just about anything right now – maybe even fish. Euch, fish." said Charlotte.

"Don't like fish?"

"How can anyone like fish? Do you like fish?"

Lizzie raised a brow.

"How can anyone hate fish?" she laughed.

"Lizzie, you are disgusting! Think about it! They're slimy, slippery, and they taste…fishy."

Lizzie and Charlotte burst into laughter.

"Charlotte, maybe that's because they're fish!" managed Lizzie after trying and failing several times.

"I still don't like them."

The waiter came with their food and looked at them strangely.

"Look what you've done now, Charlotte. The waiter thinks we're crazy now!" scolded Lizzie.

"Aren't we? Anyways, who cares what the waiter thinks? Unless that waiter's cute…"

"Well I don't know! I was too busy laughing."

And they collapsed into laughter again, until the tantalizing smell of food reminded them of how hungry they were. It was, after all, two o'clock.

"Lizzie, you'll be so very pretty at the ball." murmured Charlotte dreamily.

"You'll be prettier, Charlotte."

"Nonsense! I don't pretend to be prettier than you, Lizzie. Face it; I'm thirty - nearly thirty-one. I'm not so young anymore. Men would even say that I'm past my prime."

There was a sad tone in Charlotte's voice, one that Lizzie had never heard before. Lizzie didn't like it.

"Charlotte, don't say that. You're young, and beautiful. I dare any man to say you're past your prime, because they would be answering to me." said Lizzie firmly.

Charlotte smiled.

"Thanks Lizzie. You're a great friend, you know? I knew you were my type from the first moment I saw you."

"I thought it was when Larry was talking about me."

"Well, you can't really trust Larry."

Lizzie laughed, but Charlotte didn't. She merely smiled.

"Come on, Charlotte. Cheer up! You can't have this bothering you all the time."

"Oh, I know. So...what did Mr Darcy want from you?"

Lizzie froze. Then she choked on the piece of pasta she was chewing on.

"Lizzie? Are you alright?" asked Charlotte worriedly.

"I'm fine," gasped Lizzie, "Silly me for not chewing properly!"

Charlotte gazed at Lizzie, until Lizzie had to drop her eyes and look at her plate. Her plate wasn't a nice sight – sure, it tasted nice, but the mix of red sauce, pasta and swirls of yellow cheese didn't look at all appetizing. Lizzie felt her stomach flip.

"Lizzie, I'm not dumb." sighed Charlotte, "You always clam up when I ask about Mr Darcy. What is it, Lizzie?"

Lizzie bit her lip, and looked at Charlotte again. She had wanted to keep her history with Darcy under wraps, like she always did, but she had found it extremely hard to not tell Charlotte. There was a twinge of guilt that she couldn't trust in Charlotte. That twinge was now magnified a hundred times, making Lizzie feel horrible. Lizzie resolved that she could, and would, tell Charlotte.

"You don't have to tell me, I suppose. But-"

"No, I want to."

Lizzie was amazed at how strong her voice was. This was the right thing to do. Lizzie could feel it.

"I have a history with Mr Darcy. We went to the same primary school and high school. We weren't always friends, but in year eleven, something clicked. We went out. I even loved him. Or, at least I thought I did. But then he decided that one girlfriend wasn't enough.'" spat Lizzie distastefully.

"'Basketball captains and cheerleaders are supposed to be together,' apparently. That's why I was his girlfriend! Because of a blasted social expectation! And then he had walked out of the room without looking back once I told him that it was over. For a month, he didn't speak to me or even look at me. It was as if I didn't exist to him anymore. He started dating another girl a week after I'd told him we were through. And then he moved to California with his family. I thought I would never see him again. I was glad that I would never see him again."

Lizzie could feel tears gathering in her eyes. She was able to put on a brave face for everyone because she didn't talk about or even think about it as much as possible. But now that she was talking about it without barriers, it all came rushing back. It was like rubbing salt into a festering, unhealed wound.

"Oh Lizzie." whispered Charlotte, reaching over to grasp Lizzie's hand tightly.

"It's alright. I should really get over it, shouldn't I?" laughed Lizzie weakly, "This was nine years ago."

"No. He hurt you really badly. I can't believe you're not going after him with a machete! He would deserve that. So what happened in your little meeting?"

"He wants us to be acquaintances. I bitch slapped him when he tried to grab my arm."

Lizzie laughed dryly. She remembered his shocked face. Was it that bizarre for a person to slap the great Fitzwilliam Darcy?

"He deserves that. I can't believe you didn't do more, really."

Lizzie covered her eyes. She had wanted to. She had wanted to kick him and yell at him and call him all sorts of names. But she hadn't. Lizzie had seen him, standing so coolly with his back turned to her, and she'd realised that it wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it. Lizzie had already packaged the recent memories to be sent to the far reaches of her mind.

But she couldn't forget his dark blue eyes. They were _so_ very similar, she realised.

"Lizzie, we won't talk about this anymore. But thanks for trusting in me."

Lizzie couldn't help but smile. Charlotte was very understanding. But all this was probably overwhelming her as well.

"I promise that I will tell you other things, Charlotte." Lizzie whispered, "I will tell you everything."

Charlotte's smile was warm and sincere. She gave Lizzie's hand a little squeeze.

"I'll be there when you need me, then." she said.

Lizzie could only nod. She felt sick. When she speared another piece of pasta she couldn't bring herself to eat it. She looked at Charlotte's empty plate and smiled wanly.

"I think I'm done."

"You sure?" asked Charlotte, worrying again.

"Yes. I'm really full."

Lizzie paid for her lunch and walked out of the restaurant in a half-daze. But she knew she couldn't act like that. Wouldn't her actions mean that Darcy had succeeded in making her feel uncomfortable and insecure once again? No, she couldn't let him win. Not this time. And so she bit her lip and pushed away the clouds of insecurity as best she could.

Her mobile beeped.

_Lizzie, im boardin d plane now. i'll c u soon, k? – Luv, Jane._

It was short, badly spelt and probably grammatically incorrect, but Lizzie felt herself snap out of her daze immediately. Her sister was coming really soon, and that was something to look forward to. Jane was going to come her arrival seemed to make everything so much better. Because that's what Jane always did.

"Lizzie, what was it?" asked Charlotte.

Lizzie smiled, "It's Jane, my older sister. She's coming to New York! I'm going to go pick her up at LaGuardia at six."

"And aren't you excited!" remarked Charlotte good-naturedly.

"Definitely. Oh, I'm sure you and Jane would hit it off really well. Actually, why don't you come with me to pick her up?"

Charlotte noted Lizzie's sudden change in mood with relief. She hadn't liked the quiet, sullen Lizzie she had seen just a few minutes ago. But Charlotte was glad Lizzie had trusted her enough to tell her at least part of what was troubling her. Perhaps the other parts would come soon and fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

"Sure, that would be great. But what are we going to do with the bags?"

Lizzie frowned. What were they going to do with the bags of clothes and jewelry? It would be too much of a hassle to take it to LaGuardia with them. And there was still another hour or so to go before Jane's plane arrived.

"Know what? Let's go back to my place. It's not too far away. And maybe you can just stay at my place tonight!"

"A sleepover? Why not!" replied Charlotte, smiling.

"That's decided, then! Come on, let's go."

The bus came quickly, to Lizzie's relief, and they made it back to Lizzie's apartment in a record time of fifteen minutes. Lizzie and Charlotte chatted the whole way; they were both excited about the Thanksgiving Ball. They had also been stared at for the whole bus ride, but they hadn't cared in the slightest.

"Well, here's my place. I know it's not much, but…"

"Lizzie, it's a nice place. What are you worrying about?"

Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. The apartment block was nothing compared to all the other plush apartments in Manhattan. It was grey, dull, and old-looking. Lizzie had had to put up with it for the half year she had lived there for. She could hardly believe it, but she had started to call it home. It probably would be – at least for another year or two until she earned enough to afford a better one.

"Let's just go in."

The door, however, was flung open before Lizzie could reach it. Howard Collins glared at Lizzie from the other side.

"Miss Bennet." he said coolly.

Lizzie grimaced. Was he going to take everything out on her now? Surely he would have gotten over it after a month? It didn't seem like it, though. His eyes were stoically averted, and he was frowning. Lizzie took in a breath, ready to push past him.

"Lizzie, who is this person?" muttered Charlotte.

"Oh, it's Mr Collins, my landlord."

Mr Collins noticed Charlotte standing behind Lizzie, and his eyes immediately lighted up. Lizzie's grimace deepened. If he was going to make a move on Charlotte, Lizzie was going to snap. Big time.

"Eliza, you must introduce me to the beautiful lady standing behind you."

Lizzie muttered an "ugh!" and looked at Charlotte in apology. What was the best course of action? She should probably just ignore him and make her way to her apartment. That is, stick with the first plan. But he looked like an eager puppy, and Lizzie felt bad for the incident last week.

"This is Charlotte, my friend from work." she said unwillingly, "She's a solicitor."

Mr Collins smiled widely and pressed a kiss onto Charlotte's hand. Lizzie inwardly gagged, and looked at Charlotte's expression. There were signs of mild disgust, Lizzie thought, but they were very well concealed. It almost looked like Charlotte didn't mind. But that couldn't be right, since no woman in her right mind would ever find a man like Howard Collins to be attractive in any way.

Lizzie silently watched in astonishment when she saw that Charlotte was coping extremely well. She even managed a small smile, and she blushed – though that was probably because of embarrassment. Mr Collins, of course, took it the other way.

"Why, my dear lady, you look most ravishing when you blush. You are very much like a rose blooming right before my eyes."

Charlotte lifted her eyebrows. Well, that was a standard reaction. Who wouldn't be confused and disgusted by the overly extravagant compliments?

"My dear, it is common for young ladies such as yourself to be rendered speechless by my charm. But don't be. Speak to me, fair maiden, for I am sure that your voice is as appealing as your appearance."

Lizzie had half a mind to drag Charlotte away that very moment. But Mr Collins was still clinging onto Charlotte's arm, so Lizzie decided to be patient, and wait until it was over. If she was lucky, it would be over soon. But she had a feeling she wouldn't be.

"Your name is Howard Collins?" asked Charlotte coolly.

Mr Collins quickly removed his hand from Charlotte's. He looked nervous; he took out his handkerchief and dabbed it on his forehead. Perhaps he was thinking about how Lizzie had reacted. The thought made Lizzie smirk. No, she wasn't proud of what she had done, but the effect that she had on Mr Collins was rather entertaining.

"Yes. Has Eliza been telling you much about me?"

Charlotte hid a smile.

"Some bits and pieces. All very flattering, I assure you."

Mr Collins darted a look at Lizzie, who was looking at the exchange with an amused expression now.

"Miss Bennet is a most interesting character. But sometimes, she is not always correct…"

"She said it was all very flattering, Mr Collins." interrupted Lizzie. She didn't care if it was rude. The gushing was just too much for her.

"Of course. My, it's already three-thirty! I must be going. I have a meeting with some prominent persons in the city."

He smiled at Charlotte, squinted at Lizzie and walked away.

Lizzie chortled.

"Isn't he precious, Charlotte?"

Charlotte watched him go thoughtfully.

"Yes, I suppose. What a queer man! You were right, Lizzie."

"I always am."

Charlotte smacked Lizzie lightly on the shoulder.

"Come on, we're going to be late if we don't hurry." said Charlotte.

Lizzie smiled. It was just like Charlotte to take control.

"Yes ma'am."

"First one ready wins!" called Charlotte, racing up the stairs.

"You're on!"

Lizzie ran after Charlotte, trying not to destroy her dress and shoes in the process. The rest was a whirlwind, but it ended with Lizzie and Charlotte collapsed on the couch, laughing. They hadn't been too loud, at least, or else Lizzie would have had another audience gathered around her door.

"Hurry up, we'll have to catch a cab." said Charlotte when they stopped laughing.

Lizzie grimaced. She hated cabs – they were smelly, stinky, and rather slow. But right now, she didn't really have a choice, seeing as how it was only fifty minutes before the plane was going to arrive.

They decided to go in a cab, which turned out to be just as bad as Lizzie had thought it would be. She never wanted to go on a cab again.

"Charlotte, I feel sick." she groaned, flopping onto a dull blue airport seat.

Charlotte glared at Lizzie, and sat down heavily next to her.

"If you throw up, I'm going to kill you." growled Charlotte darkly.

Exhaustion seemed to roll over Lizzie like a thick blanket. She didn't even get to reply to Charlotte's threat before she sighed, closed her eyes and let darkness engulf her.

_Soft lips._

_Thick, smooth hair._

_I love you, I need you…_

"Lizzie?"

Lizzie groggily opened her eyes and looked blearily around her. Her eyes finally focused on a human shape standing next to her. The shape gained a head, eyes and long, honey colored hair. Lizzie's brain slowly processed the information, linking the pictures together until she was thinking at reasonable speed.

"Jane?" she mumbled.

Jane smiled, and leaned down to hug Lizzie around the shoulders affectionately.

"Yes, it's me. How did you fall asleep at the airport?"

Lizzie yawned, and stretched out her arms. The fuzzy feeling still clung to her limbs, so she stood up and gave Jane a hug. It didn't seem to help.

"Oh, we had a traumatic experience in the cab." Lizzie explained sleepily.

Jane looked at Lizzie.

"We?"

Lizzie finally gained enough consciousness to look around her properly and understand what was happening.

"Charlotte came with me to pick you up. She was sitting next to me…"

She wasn't there. Lizzie blinked in confusion. Where was she?

"Lizzie, you're finally awake!"

Lizzie spun around to see her strawberry blonde friend standing behind her, a hairbrush in hand. Where had she gotten that? Well, Charlotte was super organised and ready for every single possibility. Was falling asleep at an airport and getting her hair messed up a possibility she had considered, though? Probably, knowing Charlotte.

"Charlotte, this is Jane, my sister." introduced Lizzie.

"Really, I don't see the family resemblance." said Charlotte, smiling, "How can such a devil of a person have an angel for a sister?"

Jane laughed mildly when Lizzie spluttered and stared at Charlotte in outrage. And she was her friend!

"I can see you two will get along very well." remarked Lizzie tartly.

"Oh Lizzie, always the sensitive one." smiled Jane.

Lizzie sniffed disdainfully, before joining in with Charlotte's peals of laughter. Lizzie hugged Jane tightly and then insisted on dragging Jane's oversized luggage.

"I'm so glad you're here, Jane." said Lizzie happily.

Jane awkwardly brushed away some strands of hair from her face.

"I'm glad as well."

Was it just her, or did Jane look slightly troubled? Lizzie quickly brushed the thought away. She was thinking too much.

Jane was here. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

_What did you think? The plot gets thicker, doesn't it? Anyone know what Lizzie's little secret is now? =]_

_Anyway, I was thinking - what should happen at the Thanksgiving Ball? Give me your ideas and REVIEW! First few reviewers will most likely get their ideas written into the Ball. _

_So, happy reviewing and idea-giving!_


	6. Gowns and Balls

**_Soundtrack: _**_Please Don't Stop the Music – Rihanna _

_(It's a very dance-y song, and great for the ball)

* * *

  
_

"I still can't believe you invited Howard Collins!"

Lizzie flicked her long hair back, eyeing her friend who was grinning sheepishly while zipping up Lizzie's dress. She seriously could not believe it. She had known Charlotte was bringing a date to the Thanksgiving Ball – but Mr Collins!

Lizzie had grinned, calling it a grand joke at first. Until she saw Charlotte wince, that is. Then Lizzie's jaw had dropped open, and it had taken several minutes before she could close it. The first thing that came out of her mouth afterwards was "Who are you, and what did you do with the real Charlotte?"

The Charlotte Lizzie knew was a sensible person. She was sane, at the very least. Even so, Lizzie was forced to reconsider Charlotte's sanity. And still the fact remained. Howard Collins was coming to the Thanksgiving Ball.

"Lizzie, he's a perfectly nice guy! And you should have seen his face when I invited him."

Lizzie lifted an eyebrow.

"What did he look like; an adorable puppy dog? Or maybe a smiling salamander?" asked Lizzie cynically.

"Lizzie, stop that! Or else you can zip up the dress yourself."

Lizzie bit her lip. She did need Charlotte's help. The dress was a nightmare to put on properly. Now she wondered how she had managed back in the mall. Well, there had been that woman who had helped Lizzie try on every single dress Charlotte ordered her to put on…

"Did he slobber on your hand again?" Lizzie couldn't resist one last jibe.

"Lizzie! Do you want to do all this yourself?"

Lizzie sighed, "No, I'm sorry. It's just that…I really can't believe you're going with Mr Collins."

The mirror reflected Charlotte's small smile. Lizzie inwardly groaned. She had thought Charlotte was a sensible young lady who had good taste. Charlotte had good taste in clothes, good taste in movies and good taste in music. But somehow she had missed out on a very important sense – a good taste in guys.

"It's not that hard to believe. He's a respectable gentleman who's looking for commitment. He's not a playboy and he's not an alcoholic. He's a good man."

"But he's impossible! He's ridiculous, annoying and arrogant! Charlotte, you can do-"

"Lizzie, not everyone can afford to wait for prince charming." said Charlotte quietly.

It was true, and Lizzie knew that. Was she waiting for her prince charming? Lizzie shook her head. There was no such thing as prince charming. Not in her books, at least. She had given up on that a long time ago.

"Is Jane coming to the Ball?" asked Charlotte, changing the subject.

Lizzie smiled to herself. It had taken a bit of persuasion to get Jane to go, but Lizzie had done it. Jane was one of those slightly shy people, which was strange since she was a supermodel. She was always modest and never wanted to deliberately draw attention to herself. However, Lizzie had persuaded her – that is, threatened to blackmail her – to come.

On the Monday, Jane had tagged along with Lizzie to work. And she'd somehow managed to arrange an appointment with Darcy. What they talked about, however, was still a mystery for Lizzie. But it was perfect material for getting even.

_"An eye for an eye," she said, "You talked to Mr Darcy, now you have to come to the Ball."_

Jane gave in pretty quickly after that, which made Lizzie wonder what they had talked about. But she had promised to herself, during the minutes of Jane and Darcy's "meeting," that she wouldn't ask what had happened. It was unhealthy and unnecessary to ask. And she had stuck by that thought for the better part of the week.

She'd been sorely tempted to ask many times, though.

"Yeah, she is. But I don't know what she's doing right now. Maybe she went over to Claudia's? She did promise to lend some clothes to Claudia." said Lizzie.

The lending of designer clothes had been Jane's main bargaining chip. After the offer, Claudia had immediately organised the appointment. Claudia had even offered to escort Jane up to Darcy's office herself.

"That girl's so shallow." muttered Charlotte.

"Are you saying that you wouldn't take the offer if you were in her place?" asked Lizzie incredulously.

Charlotte's indignant expression was priceless. If Lizzie wasn't preoccupied she would have instantly taken out her phone and snapped a photo of it. Too bad she couldn't.

Suddenly, Charlotte jerked on the zip, making Lizzie yelp.

"There! You're done." said Charlotte smugly.

Lizzie glared at Charlotte, before adjusting her dress. She certainly didn't want the strapless dress to start inching down during the night. She didn't want a repeat of a dance three years ago, where her midnight blue dress had to be hoisted up once every ten seconds. Lizzie grimaced. Hopefully that wasn't going to happen tonight, or else it would border on being disastrous.

"Your turn now, Charlotte!"

"I'm pretty sure I can do it myself."

Charlotte started to edge away, noting the vengeful glint in Lizzie's eyes.

"Uh uh. Come on, Charlotte. You'll need help."

The pink dress, lying on the sofa, was quickly seized by Lizzie and brandished dangerously in front of her. _Let me help you, or your dress cops it, _was her message. Charlotte grimaced, and quickly made her way back to the mirror. Lizzie gave Charlotte a meaningful look, to which Charlotte nodded at. Then Lizzie gave her the dress so that Charlotte could put it on in the bathroom.

"Good girl. Now tell me, what _possessed _you to ask Mr Collins?" asked Lizzie.

"I've already told you!" Came the muffled reply from the bathroom.

Lizzie sighed. Mr. Collins was wealthy enough, didn't do drugs, and had a clean record – Lizzie couldn't argue with those. But still, nothing excused the fact that Mr Collins was the most ridiculous guy Lizzie had ever known.

"Come on, Char. Is it really worth it?"

There was a muffled "umm," followed by a loud "OUCH!" Lizzie glanced at the door, wondering if Charlotte was in trouble. Knowing Charlotte, Lizzie guessed that she had probably bumped her head onto something, or stubbed her toe. Something like that.

"Lizzie, help me with this confounded bow." growled Charlotte, popping her head out of the bathroom.

"Get out of the bathroom, then." called Lizzie. Charlotte didn't look too comfortable; she was holding up the dress to make sure it didn't fall down.

"Argh!"

Lizzie hid a smile as Charlotte walked awkwardly over to her. Lizzie took hold of the bow, and then Charlotte spread out her arms so that Lizzie could fasten the bow at the back properly for her. Lizzie quickly did so, making sure it was tight and secure.

"Char, you still haven't answered my question. Do you really think it's worth it?" asked Lizzie.

Charlotte sighed and looked at Lizzie in the mirror. Then she smiled, patting Lizzie's head.

"A guy as silly as Howard Collins doesn't come along every day, Lizzie!"

Lizzie made sure she wasn't looking into the mirror, because then Charlotte would see her look of utter disbelief. How Charlotte could even stand Mr Collins was beyond her. And yet here was Charlotte, making Mr Collins even more of a joke than he already was. Lizzie made sure her face had reverted back to normal before she turned to face the mirror again.

"Charlotte, you look wonderful!" exclaimed Lizzie.

Truly, Charlotte's pale pink dress matched perfectly with her strawberry blonde hair. She looked elegant and refined. Even her brown eyes gained extra sparkle and depth.

"Lizzie, how can you say that? Look at yourself first."

Lizzie's reflection was certainly very flattering. The dress fitted perfectly, despite the annoying side zips. It seemed like it was going to hold up and not start sliding down during the night. It was as close to a perfect dress as Lizzie could have wished.

"Well, we still have make-up and hair to do. So chop, chop!" ordered Lizzie.

Out came the curling tongs, the ionic hair dryer, and all the cosmetics. Mascara, eye shadow, lipstick and lip-gloss were thrown mercilessly onto the floor, the couch – and their faces.

"Hey, I like being able to see with my two eyes, okay!" yelped Lizzie, when Charlotte nearly poked her right eye with the eyeliner.

"If you don't squirm it'll be fine!" muttered Charlotte, still trying to apply it.

It took another hundred yelps and complaints before the make-up and hair were done. By that time, Lizzie was sure she never wanted to see make-up or the curling iron again. But she had to admit the end result was pretty good.

"So, just the jewelry now, right?" asked Lizzie.

Dangly gold earrings, a blue topaz necklace, and two alternating gold and silver bangles accompanied Lizzie's dress perfectly. Charlotte chose rose quartz earrings and a complimenting necklace of amethyst and rose quartz.

"We don't look too bad, right?" laughed Charlotte while they looked at themselves in Lizzie's full-length mirror.

"How can we look bad, after all that work we put into it all?" asked Lizzie, mock horrified.

Charlotte smiled, but the smile abruptly disappeared when the doorbell rang.

"So I suppose we'll have the pleasure of Mr Collins's company _right now_?" asked Lizzie, eyeing Charlotte.

"What else could I have done? It was the easiest arrangement." explained Charlotte.

Lizzie groaned, but stopped herself from slapping her forehead in exasperation.

"At least he rang the doorbell." muttered Lizzie, as Charlotte hurried to open the door.

"My darling Charlotte, you look absolutely ravishing."

Howard Collins's affectionate tone made Lizzie want to gag. How could Charlotte invite him to the Ball? Lizzie had mulled over it many times, but it still seemed utterly preposterous. It was very much reality, though. Lizzie sighed, and counted ten seconds before she turned around to confront Collins and his absurdity.

"Mr Collins, what a delight." she said flatly. No sane person could misinterpret the insincere tone. Mr Collins, however, did.

"Yes, it is a delight indeed. Who wouldn't be delighted to be in my company? My company is most refined and elegant. I pride myself on maintaining such an air about myself that my company is most exhilarating and entertaining. And speaking of exhilarating - isn't my Charlotte exhilaratingly beautiful? She is a true beauty, one with neither pretence nor pride. She is generous, kind-hearted, and very sensible. I do believe that no one is as wonderful as my darling Charlotte."

Lizzie lifted an eyebrow. Was that intended to make her feel ashamed or jealous? If it was, it was having the opposite effect entirely. Right now, Lizzie was extremely grateful they hadn't gone to the "next level." Lizzie shuddered to even think of it.

"Um, thank you. Howard, you look nice too. Shall we go?" asked Charlotte, flustered. Even her rouge paled in comparison to the dark blush Mr Collins's remarks had evoked.

"Of course, my rose petal. If Miss Eliza will kindly hurry up?"

Lizzie gritted her teeth to stop herself from losing her temper. It was just one night, right? She could do this. She'd survived half a year of him barging into her apartment after all.

After one last calming look at their reflections, the taxi was called. Lizzie breathed a secret sigh of relief when it wasn't as rundown and stinky as the one they had caught on the way to LaGuardia airport.

"Ready to party, girl?" asked Charlotte excitedly.

Exhilaration lighted up Charlotte's face, making her face glow with anticipation.

"Most definitely!" she exclaimed, stepping into the taxi after Charlotte.

Bubbles of excitement started to grow as Lizzie caught on to the infectious vibe from Charlotte. The feeling was almost tangible, and only slightly diminished by Mr Collins's endless chatter with the taxi driver. Didn't he realize that the cabbie didn't understand English?

Lizzie pushed away her thoughts from Mr Collins. She wasn't going to let him ruin her night. The night was going to be grand. Or so she'd heard, from Charlotte. Hundreds of people would be there; employees, their guests and of course the employers.

And that meant…

An image of Darcy dressed impeccably in a tux floated into Lizzie's thoughts. His hair was carelessly slicked back and a light smell of aftershave hung around him, mixed with the smell of some perfume. In the image he was smiling while he held out his arm for Lizzie. Just like nine years ago. Just like at the homecoming dance.

No, this wasn't the right time to go there. She was meant to enjoy this ball, not linger in the bittersweet memories of the past. She sure as heck wasn't going to let some memories faze her.

That was her resolve, which only wavered slightly when she stepped out of the taxi. It was like a red carpet moment, minus the red carpet. The entrance was crowded with people. There were dozens of taxis, luxurious looking cars and even a stretch limousine.

_A limousine._ No guesses there as to who was in the limo. Lizzie quickly looked away from Darcy's limo as he stepped out, followed by two other men and a lady. Who were they? Well, she certainly wasn't going to be sticking around to find out.

"Lizzie! You look wonderful!"

Lizzie's face broke into a wide, genuine smile. Jane had arrived with Claudia. Jane looked absolutely wonderful in a shining light gold dress with a halter-neck and a high-low hem. Her hair was tied up in a bun that had a mass of curled ringlets dangling out. She was very much a golden girl. Everyone, Lizzie was sure, paled in comparison to Jane. Like they always did, of course.

"Say that _after _you look at yourself first, Jane!" said Lizzie, smiling mildly.

"I'm sure I'd still say the same thing." replied Jane solemnly, before laughing and reaching out to hug Lizzie delicately.

"Whoa! Don't you go ruin my handiwork, missy!" warned Charlotte.

"Charlotte! You look great!" exclaimed Jane.

"Really? Well, I suppose _some _credit can be given to Lizzie for that." teased Charlotte, laughing at Lizzie's affronted expression.

"Oh no Charlotte, I think I forgot to put eyeliner on your left eye!" cried Lizzie, covering her mouth in shock.

"Shock and horror! Lizzie, how can you do such a thing?" said Claudia with a simper, finally calling the attention of everyone.

"Yeah Lizzie, how can you do such a thing?" repeated Charlotte, shaking her head in disbelief.

Charlotte's tone was incredibly disapproving and long-suffering, but there was no mistaking the twinkle in her eyes and the slight arch of her lips.

The twinkle disappeared quickly when another person joined the conversation.

"Charlotte, will you introduce me to these lovely people?"

Mr Collins had finally finished his conversation with the cabbie, it seemed. He took out a handkerchief to wipe his glistening forehead, smiling widely at Claudia and Jane. His gaze lingered on Jane far longer than necessary, making Jane blush in embarrassment. If he had done that to Lizzie, she would have told him to look away if he wanted his gonads to remain intact.

"Jane, Claudia, this is Howard Collins." introduced Charlotte, blushing.

"Nice to meet you, Jane and Claudia. My, Charlotte never told me she had such attractive friends."

Claudia sniggered softly. Even Jane had to hide a smile, despite her skill in hiding and feigning emotions. Lizzie felt sorry for Charlotte as she turned as red as a tomato. She definitely deserved better than this slimy, disgusting man.

"My, Charlotte never told me she had a boyfriend." said Claudia, mimicking Mr Collins's tone.

"Where's your boyfriend then, Claudia? Anyway, he's just a friend." said Lizzie quickly, coming to Charlotte's rescue. Charlotte had turned even redder.

"Yes, I am just a friend. But I intend to be so much more in the future. My Charlotte is a most precious creature that I won't bear to be anything but her inamorato."

"That's lovely." said Jane firmly, ending the discussion.

Mr Collins opened his mouth to say something else, before Claudia cut across hastily.

"Have fun then, you all. I have to meet up with some other people." drawled Claudia, waving lazily as she walked into the ballroom.

Lizzie looked at Jane, who shrugged, then entered the ballroom as well. What was it going to be like? Lizzie got her answer.

Music and excited chatter immediately overwhelmed them. Everything sparkled and everything glittered. Lizzie had never seen such a grand setting. Crystal chandeliers sparkled brilliantly from the ceiling and golden 'candles' gave off a lovely glow. Dozens of small round tables were dotted among the people, where people placed their champagne glasses and plates of food.

"Ain't it grand." murmured Jane.

"You don't know grand, my dear!" boasted Mr Collins, making Charlotte grimace slightly as they pushed through the crowds to get to a vacant table.

"Remind me how rich this company is again?" breathed Lizzie.

"It's the second largest consumer goods company. Or something like that." said Charlotte dully. It obviously wasn't so impressive to her.

"So much for company pride, hey?" teased Lizzie.

"Company pride? What's that?" asked Charlotte, laughing, "Anyway, let's get moving so that we can find a good niche in this overcrowded place."

Lizzie sincerely hoped Charlotte knew where she was going, because she had no idea. But while she followed Charlotte (with a whole lot of "Oops!" and "Sorry!" for the many times she stepped on someone's foot or walked right into them) she scanned the ballroom, taking in the details and decorations.

Gold and copper ribbons hanging from the ceiling and on the walls caught her eyes. On every table, cornucopias of leaves, pinecones, twigs and berries, which had been spray painted silver, gold and burgundy, were placed proudly in the centre. Proud, elegant pillars seemed to support the room, giving the ballroom a vintage touch. It was beautiful, but there was something about it that made Lizzie's lip curl in distaste. Why was there so much money to spare on such lavish decorations, while families lost their homes and couldn't afford basic necessities because of the economic crisis?

"Ladies and Gentleman!"

The hall slowly quieted down as every head turned to the stage. A heavy sense of anticipation filled the air as everyone watched the Master of Ceremonies, who was patiently repeating the same three words again and again. When the hall was finally silent (or as close to silence as it could get) he began.

"Thank you. Firstly, welcome to the annual Perigee Delta Thanksgiving Ball. Whether you are an employee, distinguished guest, or family member, please enjoy the night. Now, without further ado, Mr Darcy will make his address."

Lizzie breathed in sharply as Darcy walked up to the stage. Her eyes were glued onto his moving figure – she couldn't tear her eyes away. He was dressed flawlessly in a white tuxedo, but he looked stiff and uncomfortable as if nothing was to his taste. Lizzie almost snorted. It was so like him to be totally unimpressed by everything. Nothing was ever good enough for him. Nothing.

Lizzie blinked her eyes. Was it a trick of the light? Once Darcy was on the stage, he suddenly seemed more relaxed. He was even smiling! Suddenly, the room fell silent. It was interesting how he could command everyone's attention just by standing there and smiling.

"Ladies and Gentleman, it is a pleasure to see you all tonight. The Thanksgiving Ball has been a tradition of this company for many years, and continues to be a delight to attend. As always, we are here to celebrate the spirit of togetherness, loyalty, and cooperation – two very important values of this company. These values will only grow more important with the changing times. So, let us celebrate this holiday with joy. Let us make a toast – to friends, family, and love."

Lizzie felt her jaw clench with tension as she listened. His voice was so clear, so penetrating. Everyone was cheering and champagne glasses clinked loudly as everyone joined in the toast. Everyone except for Lizzie. She gritted her teeth and stared at the floor in disdain. Why was he so good at lying? Because he certainly couldn't have meant what he said. "Spirit of togetherness, loyalty and cooperation" – what did he know of them? And, as if he cared for them! If he did, he wouldn't have done what he had nine years ago. But she was letting the past cloud the present once more. Maybe he changed.

The large band started playing, filling the ballroom with music. Vibrant chatter soon followed, making the atmosphere light and festive. Lizzie plastered a smile on her face. She felt so out of place in the ballroom. Everyone was celebrating Thanksgiving - or at least celebrating. That's what _she _was meant to be doing as well. But it was hard, especially after hearing the words "friends, family and love" coming from Darcy's mouth.

"Charlotte, my darling, will you honor me with this dance?"

Lizzie glanced up to monitor Charlotte's expression. What would it be? Mortified? Annoyed? Panicked? But Charlotte merely looked amused. Perhaps – just perhaps – Charlotte didn't mind him. Lizzie frowned slightly at the thought. How could Charlotte tolerate him?

"I suppose." replied Charlotte.

"You are a wonder." whispered Lizzie to herself.

Charlotte and Mr Collins immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lizzie and Jane. Lizzie frowned slightly, then looked to Jane.

"Jane, how can Charlotte stand a person like Mr Collins?" asked Lizzie.

"He has his merits, I'm sure. He looks pretty devoted to her at least." replied Jane smoothly.

Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. If someone was that devoted to her, she would run a mile.

"Do you consider being a slimy and lecherous pain in the ass a merit?"

"Keep an open mind. I know he's not that great-"

"No kidding." snorted Lizzie.

"But perhaps he makes Charlotte happy. And that's the important thing, right?"

"But that's the problem. I think Charlotte is tolerating this man just because she thinks she has to." said Lizzie quietly.

And it was true. Hadn't Charlotte said she was "past her prime"? Hadn't Charlotte said she couldn't afford to wait for prince charming? Lizzie just wished she didn't think that way, because she knew Charlotte could do so much better. She was intelligent, attractive, and independent. What did men want other than that?

_"She's a slut."_

_"No, she's not. But she is pretty hot."_

_"Only pretty hot? That girl's sex on legs. And she's a slut."_

_"Fine, maybe. I suppose that's why Darcy likes her."_

Was that all guys thought about? Was that why Darcy had had his tongue down another girl's throat? Did men just want a mindless chick with great boobs and stunning legs? Lizzie tried to brush the thoughts away. This wasn't the right time. But the thought remained. It had only been two days since Lizzie had broken up with Darcy, and the whole school had been talking about 'the other girl.'

So maybe Lizzie could understand why Charlotte wanted to give Mr Collins a go. But honestly, _Mr Collins_?

"Jane, I need a distraction. Let's go get a drink."

She didn't wait for an answer before making her way to the bar. That was one perk of an incredibly posh party, at least.

Lizzie wove through the crowd, careful not to tread on people again. Where was Charlotte? And where was Jane? Lizzie thought Jane had followed her, but obviously not. She was nowhere to be found - the crowd had swallowed her. She decided that she would find Charlotte again after getting her drink.

"Like the party?"

The voice was a jarring note. Lizzie stopped walking toward the bar and turned around. Her eyes narrowed.

"Why would you care what I thought?" she spat.

She walked quickly away from him, weaving through the crowd in an attempt to lose the man tailing her. She didn't look to see whether she had lost him. Lizzie just went forward, trying to escape him. Could he tell what she was thinking about?

"Lizzie, you can't do this."

"Do what?" she yelled over the noise, still walking forwards.

Darcy suddenly appeared in front of her. Lizzie scowled and pushed him away, walking in the other direction.

"This!"

Lizzie stopped walking and bit her lip, trying to calm herself down. She was being silly. Why was she running away? No, she wasn't running away, she was just trying to go get a drink. But that was a big fat lie. She was running away. From him, of all people! He was supposed to run away from her. Like he always did.

"I'm not doing anything. I'm getting a drink from the bar."

The bar was at the other side of the room now for some reason. She could see Darcy's disbelief. Lizzie grimaced, wondering how she had ended up on the other side of where she wanted to be. She hastily made her way back towards the bar. Maybe he would leave her alone, now that she actually was going to the bar. Who was she kidding?

"Lizzie, will you just let me speak for once?" Darcy asked.

"Oh, are we back to first name terms?" asked Lizzie acidly.

"Miss Bennet, are we going to be civilised or not?"

Lizzie continued weaving her way through the crowd, trying to ignore the fact that a flustered man in a tuxedo was following her. A drink. She needed a lot of it right then.

"What do you have?" asked Lizzie loudly, ignoring Darcy who was sliding into the seat next to her.

The bartender was a middle aged man with a moustache and a mop of ash blonde hair. He winked when he saw Lizzie, much to Lizzie's disgust. She was in no mood for flirts, or lecherous men.

"For you, I'd suggest a piña colada or maybe the El Presidente." said the bartender, leaning over the counter.

"Something stronger."

"A vodka martini? Or a Zombie cocktail?" he suggested, slightly confused.

"None of them thank you." said a clipped voice.

Lizzie's brow twitched when she heard Darcy. Did he think he could order her around now? Well, he was dead wrong.

"Zombie cocktail, actually." replied Lizzie, daring Darcy to say something.

The bartender glanced from Lizzie to Darcy, wondering what to do. Lizzie peered at Darcy sideways, unwilling to look at him directly. Was he going to challenge her once more?

"Get it, please." said Lizzie, satisfied when Darcy remained silent.

"Lizzie, what are you doing?" asked Darcy vehemently.

"_Mr Darcy_, I'd like to ask you the same question."

Lizzie still refused to look at him. Instead, she pretended to examine her nails, which were painted an aqua colour. Maybe he would take the hint and leave her alone, like he had been doing for the whole week. But there was no sign that he was going to go. Why wouldn't he leave when she wanted him to so badly?

"Miss Bennet, this is ridiculous! Why can't we have a civilised conversation? That's all I ask, Miss Bennet. A civilised conversation."

"We were being civilised. Until you decided to choose what I drink." replied Lizzie stubbornly.

Darcy groaned, "Is it that bad that I care about your well being?"

Lizzie bit the inside of her mouth. He cared? Since when did he care? Lizzie turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed in contempt. She looked him up and down, and then finally lifted her eyebrows skeptically.

"Since when did you start caring about my well being?" she whispered dangerously.

Darcy looked taken back, but he refused to look away from Lizzie's flashing eyes. He took in a breath before he dared to reply.

"I don't. But this is just ridiculous!"

Lizzie's eyebrows swooped into neutral position as her whole face went stone blank. How could he say it like that? Lizzie's hand twitched involuntarily, as if it was about to slap Darcy across the face again. Lizzie took in a slow breath. She wasn't going to lose control. Not again.

"You think I'm doing this just to annoy you?" asked Lizzie flatly.

Darcy crossed his arms.

"Yes."

Lizzie lifted an eyebrow and looked at him. She didn't look at him directly, but she hoped it was enough to unnerve him. She wanted him to look away. She wanted him to look uncomfortable and fidget. But he didn't.

"Not everything's about you, Mr Darcy." said Lizzie lowly.

"And not everything's about you! Just talk to me, will you?"

An obvious note of exasperation was in Darcy's tone. Despite Darcy's cool exterior, Lizzie had a feeling that she was irritating him after all. Lizzie wondered how much he was actually holding back. What was this actually about? Darcy had ignored Lizzie for the whole week, but now he suddenly wanted to talk to her. Could anyone blame Lizzie for trying to brush him off?

Lizzie leaned in sharply. Darcy found himself staring straight into her darkened hazel eyes.

"Want a talk? Okay. Mr Darcy, how are you today? Good? Well, if you want to stay that way, I think you'd better stop trying to 'talk' to me. So, goodbye. Please, don't drop by." hissed Lizzie. She moved to go.

"Lizzie." whispered Darcy.

Something in Darcy's voice made Lizzie stop. Her face flushed, realizing how close they were. So close, that she could see the tiny freckles on his nose and the lighter tints in his sapphire colour eyes. She could see every detail, including his lips. Lizzie felt blood rush to her head, making her feel slightly dizzy. This wasn't right.

_What about all those damned whisperings?_

_What about all those people sneering at her in the corridor?_

_What about that cold look of indifference on Darcy's face?_

But those thoughts were disappearing like a bullet.

Darcy didn't know what he was doing. All he could see was Lizzie's lips. All he could hear was her soft breathing. Everything else had disappeared into fuzz. He slowly leaned towards her, surprised when she leaned in as well. He could feel her breathing on his cheek. Nine years. It had been nine years since…

"Asshole."

Darcy blinked as Lizzie suddenly leaned away. A look of utter disgust had crossed her face.

"Did you think that this was a quick and easy way to get yourself laid? 'Oh, I haven't done her for nine years, so maybe it's time to do so again!' Is that what you're thinking? I'm not eighteen anymore, Mr Darcy. I'm not going to do it with you again just because I'm the head cheerleader and you're the basketball captain."

Darcy watched in astonishment as Lizzie took her Zombie cocktail, downed it in one large gulp and walked away from him. What was he thinking? Oh, he knew what he was thinking. He just…shouldn't have been thinking those things. Darcy closed his eyes, reigning in a roar of frustration. Why was he so stupid?

Lizzie walked away quickly without looking back, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. He had been so close. Lizzie grimaced, thinking about the way he had looked at her. Why was her heart beating so fast? Gosh, _what had Jane discussed with him?_

Lizzie seriously wanted to know now, despite her resolve not to ask Jane. What did he want from her? What was this sudden change?

"Lizzie! Come here!"

Lizzie whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice. Her eyes eventually landed on Jane, who was standing close to a man. Trust Jane to have a guy around her already. Jane was a man magnet, though she always seemed to attract some of the wimpiest guys alive. They weren't as bad as Mr Collins, but they were bad enough. Lizzie shuddered as she remembered Pete the Punk Wannabe and Wayne the Wanker. Hopefully this man wasn't one of those.

"Lizzie!" called Jane again.

The man was smiling candidly at Lizzie as if they were childhood friends. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, with a slightly lanky appearance. Lizzie smiled in return when the man offered his hand bashfully, which Lizzie took after a split second's hesitation. So – he was a gentleman.

He could very much be said to be a male version of Jane.

Well, he didn't have twenty piercings and a Mohawk, and he didn't have a cloud of smoke around him. So far, he fit Lizzie's criteria of a "respectable man." If he was lucky, the man would graduate to "respectable man for Jane" in two weeks time.

"Jane, where did you find this person?" asked Lizzie, smiling.

"After you _ditched_ me, Charles asked me to dance." explained Jane simply.

"So I take it that you're Charles?" said Lizzie.

"Call me Charlie. Charles makes me sound like an old grandpa. So you must be Lizzie?"

Lizzie grinned. She decided she liked this man. He was direct, straightforward, and honest. His voice was pleasant, which was a good change from Larry and – dare she think of him - Darcy. He definitely knew how to make a good impression. It would suck if he turned out to be a tool in disguise, though.

"Yes, I'm Elizabeth. But yeah, call me Lizzie."

"Nice to meet you, Lizzie. Jane's told me a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope." said Lizzie, eyeing Jane who merely smiled.

"All good things, I assure you."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. That didn't need to be assured. Jane was guaranteed to say positive things, no matter whom it was. She believed in the inner goodness of every human being, something that Lizzie had never been able to do. Even a criminal would be given a favourable description. Seriously, if Jane ran the criminal system, no one would be in the jails.

"So who are you here with?" asked Lizzie.

The guy couldn't have come alone, after all.

"I'm here with my sister, Caroline Bingley and my friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Charlie immediately dropped from "respectable" to "tool" in a split second. He was a tool in disguise after all. Lizzie looked at Jane, her mouth open in an "oh." Jane smiled helplessly and shrugged. Lizzie grimaced, but then smiled when she realized Charlie was still talking to her.

"So how's the ball for you?" asked Lizzie lamely. She was still discreetly looking at Jane, who was still shrugging.

"One of the best I've ever been to, actually."

"Really? Why?"

"I suppose it's because of the people here. Talking to various people has been most delightful."

Lizzie didn't miss the slight flicker as Charlie glanced at Jane before looking back at her. She also saw Jane's cheeks color and Charlie's cheeks color in response. Friend of Darcy or not, this man was sweet and seemingly a true gentleman. Lizzie sighed inwardly, trying to detach the connections between her thoughts on Charlie and her thoughts on Darcy.

"My, who do we have here?" drawled an all too familiar voice.

Before Lizzie could say anything, she found herself being twirled around by strong arms. She squeaked, hoping she wasn't going to kiss the floor. Lizzie was going to kill Larry if she did, though. She was going to kill him twice if her dress was ripped in the process.

"Larry! This-isn't-funny!" yelped Lizzie, finding herself inches from the floor.

"Isn't it?" laughed Larry.

Lizzie gave Larry a warning glare before he righted her.

"Aw Lizzie, don't look at me like that. Most girls would have thought that was incredibly romantic."

"Romantic my ass. Is the dress alright?"

Lizzie examined her dress, looking worriedly for a rip. She sighed in relief when she didn't find any.

"See? I'm pro at twirling, okay?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Sure, Larry. You're pro at everything and anything if it suits you."

"Most definitely."

"So what is it?" asked Lizzie, crossing her arms.

"Can't I ask a lovely lady to a dance?"

Larry bowed theatrically and stretched out his arm for Lizzie to take. Standard Larry, Lizzie thought. But Lizzie laughed and took his arm, letting him lead her to the dance floor. Larry looked exceptional, with his black tuxedo and slicked back hair. Not that Lizzie would say that to his face. His ego was big enough as it was.

"So what do you think of the ball?" asked Larry while he lead Lizzie in a waltz.

"Did Mr Darcy plan it?" asked Lizzie lightly.

"No, of course not! Some pros did it, I think. If Darcy planned it, this ball would be an empty room with a DJ." said Larry with a shudder.

"Then yeah, it's a good ball."

Larry's blue eyes twinkled.

"You and Darcy sure do have some issues. Big ones."

"Remind me of what you said to me last week, because I've just forgotten." replied Lizzie dryly.

"Fine, I'll keep my word and not say anything. But really…"

"Don't 'but really' me, Larry."

Larry laughed, pulling Lizzie through a spin as the music came to a climax. Lizzie smiled as she pulled of the spin with ease. Ballroom dancing had never been her strong point. The requirement of moving in time with another person was just too much. However, dancing with Larry was incredibly easy. He led well, she admitted.

"Okay, I won't 'but really' you. So who's Charlotte with?" asked Larry.

Lizzie glanced around the ballroom, trying to catch sight of her strawberry blonde friend. She couldn't see Charlotte anywhere.

"Where is she?"

"I saw her at the bar a couple of minutes ago with some man. So tell me, who is the guy?" asked Larry curiously.

"My landlord." said Lizzie reluctantly.

Larry laughed even louder, though he continued leading. He even pulled her into another twirl and dip, this time without Lizzie complaining.

"The guy's a pompous fool."

"No he's not! He's a perfectly res-"

Lizzie's eyes widened when she realized what she was saying. She was defending Howard Collins. Was she crazy? She wanted – no, needed – to take back the words. Too bad words couldn't be erased. Not so quickly, at least.

"You were saying?" asked Larry, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." said Lizzie, mortified.

"Say what you were going to say, Lizzie!"

"No. I refuse to say it. What was I going to say anyway?"

Lizzie looked mock thoughtful, knowing that it probably wasn't convincing. It was hard to think and dance at the same time.

"Whatever. Ah, I came so close to something I could blackmail you with in the future."

Larry looked wistful. Lizzie deliberately stomped on his foot.

"Ow! That was uncalled for," yelped Larry.

"What? I can't help it if I'm uncoordinated."

Larry glared at Lizzie. She grinned, but abruptly stopped when Larry pulled her through a series of twists and turns that left her clinging onto him for dear life.

"What? I can't help being so much better at this than you." drawled Larry, in reply to Lizzie's glare.

"Larry, you're so full of yourself." laughed Lizzie.

Larry merely smiled pensively and twirled Lizzie around slowly as the song finished. The dancers clapped and cheered as the band members bowed. Lizzie and Larry clapped as well, laughing together.

"It's good to hear you laugh again, Lizzie." Larry whispered after the applause.

"I have been rather grouchy lately, haven't I?" replied Lizzie after a pause.

"No kidding! It was like some person shoved a poker up your ass."

Lizzie whacked Larry's arm, but didn't say anything. It was true. She had been rather uptight with everyone lately, ever since she found out that she was working for Darcy. Lizzie made a mental note to laugh more and seem less like an uptight prick. After all, she didn't want to act like _him. _

Another song started, this time a lively salsa.

"Another dance?" asked Larry, holding out his hand once more.

"Maybe not. How about a drink instead?"

"Sounds good to me."

Larry held out his arm for Lizzie, which Lizzie took after a moment of hesitation. Why was Larry being so nice, even though Lizzie had been so nasty to him? Perhaps she had judged him too quickly. It would probably be better if she cut him some slack, possibly starting from then.

The same bartender was still at the bar, beaming as Lizzie approached again.

"Another Zombie cocktail?" asked the bartender.

"I think I'll settle for a soda, thank you." replied Lizzie, grimacing. She didn't want to repeat the experience of drinking (well, swallowing) a Zombie so soon.

"Sure thing. And how about you, mister?"

"Vodka martini, please." said Larry.

"Shaken, not stirred?" asked the bartender, smiling.

Lizzie rolled her eyes when Larry laughed, calling the bartender a "capital fellow." Perhaps he looked gallant in his tuxedo, but James Bond? No, Larry simply could not be trusted with a mission a whole country's safety hinged upon. But maybe he could pull off the womanizer part.

"I thought I saw your sister again. She's here, right?" asked Larry.

"Yeah, she is. The one in the gold dress."

"She looks nice."

Lizzie smiled. "She always looks nice, Larry. She is nice."

Larry looked thoughtful.

"She didn't seem so nice when she talked to Darce." he said.

Curiosity burned Lizzie's throat, urging her to ask Larry what he knew about Jane and Darcy's talk. But something kept it in check, though she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Lizzie bowed her head, looking away from Larry.

"Here's the soda for madam and the vodka martini for sir." said the bartender, thrusting the drinks forward.

"Thanks." muttered Lizzie. She was glad of the distraction.

"Ah. My favourite." said Larry.

Lizzie watched in astonishment when Larry upended the cocktail and drained it in one gulp. Then she laughed as he grinned and delicately ate the olive, pulling faces as he did. Did he not care about getting drunk? Well, he could probably hold his liquor really well. Or maybe he was just a tad crazy.

"Thirsty." explained Larry.

Lizzie smiled as she sipped her soda, "Not scared of hangovers?"

"Definitely not. You know, the best way not to get a hangover is to drink water before you go to sleep. It's always worked."

Lizzie tilted her head back slightly and laughed softly.

"Don't believe me then." sniffed Larry in mock disdain, "See if I care if you come to work with a splitting headache someday. I'll be the one saying 'I told you so'."

"You wouldn't say that." laughed Lizzie.

"Why not?"

"Because of this." And Lizzie flicked an ice cube out of her soda straight onto Larry's face.

Larry spluttered loudly, wiping his face with a handkerchief.

"That was uncalled for as well!"

Lizzie laughed and started to edge away, but Larry grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Lizzie, you will apologize!" exclaimed Larry, though he was smiling.

"For what? I see nothing worth apologising for. Actually, I'd say you deserved it."

"No I didn't! What did I do, aside from giving you some friendly advice?"

Lizzie merely flicked Larry's nose with her fingers, making him flinch. But she immediately regretted doing so when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into an uncomfortably tight hug.

"Have I said you look beautiful yet?" he whispered while Lizzie was crushed to his chest.

"Can't – breathe!" gasped Lizzie, pushing herself away from Larry.

"Did you hear? You look beautiful tonight, Lizzie."

Lizzie blushed slightly at the compliment and tucked a stray lock of hair. Larry was gazing at her intently, his blue eyes dancing in the light. Did he want her to reply?

"You don't look too bad yourself." she replied loftily.

"Only 'not too bad'? Lizzie, I'm mortified."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you." snapped Lizzie, "I'm going."

Larry merely laughed and waved his hand dismissively.

"Another vodka martini please." he asked as Lizzie walked away. Lizzie shook her head. He was crazy after all.

But Lizzie smiled, remembering his compliment. He was sweet in his own strange way. He was ridiculous, but he was also gallant. And the way he had looked at her…

Lizzie shivered. That was dangerous territory.

"There you are Lizzie! I've been looking for you everywhere."

Charlotte suddenly burst from a group of people and immediately grabbed Lizzie's arm, dragging her to a mosaic pillar.

"How's dancing with Mr Collins?" asked Lizzie.

"Fun. He's not too great at ballroom, but he's passable." replied Charlotte hesitantly.

Lizzie lifted a sceptical eyebrow. If he was passable, then why were Charlotte's feet marked with several strange pink markings? Obviously Mr Collins had tread on her feet a large number of times. Lizzie wondered how Charlotte could stand it and not complain.

"I know, who am I kidding? But really, he's a nice man." sighed Charlotte.

"I've just used up my quota of snarky remarks for the night, so don't worry. I'm not going to say anything." said Lizzie sympathetically.

"Yeah well…I wouldn't blame you if you did, really. So how's your night?"

Lizzie glanced around the hall, checking to see if anyone was listening. It wouldn't do if someone was eavesdropping. But then Lizzie froze when she saw Darcy and Charles standing on the other side of their pillar.

"Lizzie?" asked Charlotte, confused.

"Shh!"

Lizzie pointed at Darcy and Charles, which immediately shut Charlotte up. Lizzie felt her face burn, knowing that she was about to eavesdrop. But curiosity gripped her like a vice and forced her to stand there silently, straining to hear what the men were saying.

Sure enough the conversation reached Lizzie's ears, loud and clear.

"Really Darcy, you've been moping here for the better half of the evening already! This is your ball, you're supposed to dance!"

Lizzie could imagine Darcy's glare.

"If this is my ball, then I get to decide what I want to do." replied Darcy through gritted teeth.

"Still, you should dance with someone. I must see you dance." insisted Charles.

"You've seen me dance. I've danced with your sister three times already. I think that's enough dancing."

Lizzie smiled humourlessly at Charlotte, who shrugged her shoulders.

"Why must you be such a grouch? Really, I've never seen such lovely women in my life!"

"That's because you're with the only pretty girl here. Asides from her, they're all pretentious, shallow no-brainers only interested in money and looks. I'm in no mood for them." growled Darcy.

Charlie paused. Well, how would he answer to that brick-ended reply? Lizzie could almost imagine Darcy mentally building a three-foot-thick wall between himself and the rest of the world. He hadn't always been like that, though.

"Jane is lovely, you really must meet her." said Charlie, trying vainly to get Darcy to talk.

"Yes, I know." muttered Darcy.

Charlie paused once more.

"Do you know her?" he asked brightly.

"Yes."

"Why, that's great! It makes introductions so much easier."

"Right."

For a man who used to wax lyrical at every single basketball game, monosyllabic answers were rather bizarre. Why was he like that now?

The answer was right in front of her. He had changed considerably. He'd told her that himself. But she'd brushed him off with an insult. And her insult seemed more like the truth the longer she eavesdropped. _He was even less than he was before._ But that thought didn't bring any joy.

"Darcy, you really can't be sulking like this all night. Jane's sister Elizabeth is quite pretty and sensible. Why don't you ask her for a dance?" asked Charlie.

Charlotte nudged Lizzie. Then Charlotte jerked her head to the dance floor. Lizzie nodded silently, getting ready to leave discreetly. It was probably the right time to go, since whatever Darcy was going to say wasn't going to be pleasant. Lizzie certainly didn't want to hear an account of her and Darcy's history from Darcy's mouth.

But Darcy's reply came a bit too quickly.

"Charles, you really can't be serious. Her? She's the last girl in the world I'd ask for a dance." scoffed Darcy.

The stormy look on Lizzie's face could have turned people to stone. Lizzie was extremely tempted to go up to Darcy and punch him, but something stopped her. It wasn't worth it. This part of him hadn't changed after all. Lizzie smiled grimly.

Maybe it was rather amusing instead. After their history, it was just a _tiny _bit ironic how he said she was the last girl he'd ask for a dance. And it occurred to her that if he could insult her like he didn't know her, then she could do so too. Lizzie laughed, finding the strange how an insult was her liberation. She had been so caught up in wondering what Darcy wanted and how he felt. Now she knew. And now she didn't fucking care.

"Mr Darcy's such an asshole…" whispered Charlotte, gripping Lizzie's hand.

"Don't worry, Charlotte. This is rather funny," whispered Lizzie in reply, "But I think it's time to go."

Lizzie didn't bother walking away discreetly. Instead, she walked right by Darcy and Charlie without looking at them, though she wondered what his face would look like. Not that she cared much, though.

"Oh dear." muttered Charlie, watching Lizzie and Charlotte walk by.

Darcy's face was impassive. How much had she heard? It didn't really matter though. She had made it extremely clear she wanted nothing to do with him. So perhaps her hearing the insult wasn't a bad thing. Maybe it could be considered as some sort of liberation. Though he would have preferred it if it hadn't happened.

"Charles, get back to Jane." murmured Darcy, leaning tiredly on the pillar.

"Darcy, that girl just heard you -!"

"I know, alright?" growled Darcy, "But I can't do anything about it now, can I? Just get back to your lovely Jane. You won't have much fun with me."

Charlie patted Darcy's shoulder before leaving. Darcy crossed his arms, but then scratched his head. What was done was done. That was the bad thing about words; you couldn't take them back. Not fully, at least. He'd just have to live with a Lizzie who hated his guts for all eternity. That little insult had just sealed his fate.

"Why do I learn _nothing _in nine years?" he whispered to himself.

"Don't know. 'Cause you're a Darcy?" said a slurred voice.

Darcy turned to glare at Larry, but stopped when he noted Larry's lopsided grin and swaying figure.

"Larry, please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

"I no have. I mean, I not have…forget it." muttered Larry.

"Maybe you should call a taxi and get home." suggested Darcy coldly.

This wasn't a rare occurrence. Larry always drank more than he should, no matter what Darcy told him. He always ended up swaying and half passed out, but he never seemed to learn his lesson. He didn't seem to care. Sure, Larry hadn't gone and tattooed himself or something just as bad while drunk, but it was only a matter of time. Larry's drinking was a time bomb that would eventually end with something catastrophic. Darcy only hoped he could try to lessen the impact, or else he'd be forced to send his friend to rehab.

"No. I'm fine. Darce, you party pooper…"

Darcy beckoned one of the waiters over, "Get this man on a taxi home. His address is 32 West, 52nd Street. Make sure he gets there safe."

The waiter bowed after Darcy tucked a few notes in his front pocket.

"Larry, get home now." ordered Darcy.

"Yessir, whatever." mumbled Larry, giving Darcy a wobbly salute.

Darcy sighed as the waiter mutely pushed Larry to the exit. How bad could the night get? He could almost say this was the worst night ever – almost. But it was going to get a lot worse.

"Fitzwilliam, why are you standing here alone?" purred Caroline Bingley.

Darcy checked his instant urge to run a mile away. Of all the pretentious, shallow women that he hated, Caroline had to top the list. But as Charlie's sister, Darcy was obliged to tolerate Caroline's adulation and misconceptions. That is, Caroline had decided that Darcy was madly in love with her, and her with him. Every moment they were together were filled with hints of wedding plans and plans even further down the line. No matter what Darcy said to deter her it always seemed to have an opposite effect. Now Darcy merely avoided her as best he could and went along with whatever she said when he couldn't.

"I'm resting." answered Darcy dully._ So please leave me alone._ Darcy highly doubted that would happen.

"But you've been here ever since my last dance with you!" exclaimed Caroline, before a large smile spread across her face, "You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Fitzwilliam, that's really sweet, but you should have just gone to find me instead of waiting here like a lost puppy."

Caroline smiled indulgently up at Darcy and took his arm. Darcy roughly removed his arm from her grasp and crossed them. Caroline looked surprised.

"Did something happen? You seem oddly out of sorts. Tell me what happened."

"It's none of your business." snapped Darcy brusquely.

"No, you must tell me! It's not healthy to have all this pent up angst." said Caroline patronizingly.

"Caroline, drop it. It doesn't concern you at all, okay?"

Something about Darcy's tone made Caroline shut up. Darcy turned away from Caroline, looking at the band. If he was lucky, Caroline wouldn't say anything for a while. Yeah right.

"Fitzwilliam, will you dance with me again?" asked Caroline.

Darcy glanced at Caroline and groaned inwardly. He had danced with her three times already, which was three times too much. The first had been punishment, the second torture, and the third total hell. He didn't think he would even survive a fourth.

"I'm tired," Darcy lied. "I'm sure there are plenty of men you can dance with instead of me."

"Them? Those men are complete buffoons. I swear that they don't even know their right from their left! Why are they even here?" complained Caroline.

"Most of those men are my employees." replied Darcy coldly, "So they were invited by me."

That shut Caroline up for a second again. Darcy watched with quiet satisfaction as embarrassment coloured Caroline's cheeks.

"Still, they are nothing compared to you." declared Caroline, quickly recovering.

Darcy sighed, but was saved from replying when the whole ballroom started reverberating with cheers. What was going on? Or was it that time again? It must be. Darcy groaned. This would be even worse than talking with Caroline. The night finally claimed its position as the worst night of his life.

"Come on up, Mr CEO!" called the MC from the stage.

Darcy made his face go blank and walked up to the stage. If he was going to do this again, he might as well do it with dignity.

The crowd cheered even louder as he took up the microphone offered by the MC.

"So who's going to be the lucky lady?" said the MC loudly.

Nearly every woman's hand went up and the noise increased tenfold as the women called out "Me! ME!" Darcy sighed. It was the same every year. He had tried to get rid of it, but he'd been unsuccessful. Apparently, everyone loved to see him disgraced and embarrassed.

"It makes good gossip." That was the answer when he had tried to remove it from the Thanksgiving Ball.

At least it was only once per year. Then he could forget about his "performance" after a month of continual allusions, mainly from Larry. Darcy was suddenly glad Larry had gotten drunk and gone home.

"All right! This lovely woman at the front, please come up here."

There was a scuffle, before a loud "Fine!" Darcy frowned slightly, wondering what was happening. He understood once he saw the lady walking up the stage.

Dammit, it was Lizzie.

Lizzie glared at the MC, before taking her place stiffly next to Darcy. She'd tried to slip away, but Charlotte had gripped her arm to stop her. Then the whole crowd had turned against her and basically pushed her onto the stage. She was going to make Charlotte pay later, but right now she was concentrating on not killing the MC for picking her.

"So what song will it be?" asked the MC.

"Are we singing a song?" muttered Lizzie sulkily.

"Yes. Pick a song."

Lizzie liked singing, but right now she cursed whoever invented singing and songs. She refused to look at Darcy, though she could feel his gaze on her. The whole crowd was silent, waiting for them to come to a decision.

"Quickly," muttered Darcy.

Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. He had the audacity to even talk to her? Well, now she knew the perfect song to sing. She whispered it to the MC, who smiled and quickly told the band. Lizzie smiled smugly as she heard the first few notes of the song. Darcy was going to flip.

_You walked into the party  
Like you were walking onto a yacht  
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye  
Your scarf it was apricot  
You had one eye in the mirror  
As you watched yourself gavotte  
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner  
They'd be your partner,_

Lizzie looked at Darcy from the corner of her eye as she sang. To her surprise he looked stone blank. But she completely missed how tightly he was gripping his mike. In fact, it looked like the mike was about to snap in two. Was Darcy even going to be able to sing?

_And,  
You're so vain  
You probably think this song is about you  
You're so vain  
I'll bet you think this song is about you  
Don't you? Don't you?_

Lizzie's eyes flashed as she turned to face Darcy, letting the words mean something. Though he should _know _the song was about him, she was letting the punch line strike him fiercely (_Don't you? Don't you?_) before she walked to the other side of the stage, away from him.

Darcy took in a small, shuddering breath, before he opened his mouth to sing. He was surprised when his voice came out loud and clear, though his hand refused to relax on the mike.

_You had me several years ago  
When I was still quite naive  
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair  
And that you would never leave  
But you gave away the things you loved  
And one of them was me  
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee  
Clouds in my coffee,_

The words weren't right for him. He knew it, as he watched Lizzie turn to face him again. Lizzie's mouth was pursed tightly. Darcy knew she was livid. But did she think the break-up hadn't hurt him too? Did she think that way? He still remembered how coldly she had told him it was over. He still remembered how she flatly refused to even look at him afterwards.

They could have worked it out. He could have told her the truth.

_And,  
You're so vain  
You probably think this song is about you  
You're so vain  
I'll bet you think this song is about you  
Don't you? Don't you?_

But she knew it was about her. Lizzie walked back to Darcy, her head high, locked in a look of challenging defiance. Darcy lifted an eyebrow. He wasn't going to back down. Lizzie hated him already, so it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he took her challenge and brought her down.

_I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee  
Clouds in my coffee, and_

They were singing in unison, both as loud as the other, both staring the other down. The crowd cheered loudly, almost seeing a spark fly between the two on the stage. But Lizzie and Darcy didn't hear them. They could only see each other and hear each other. No one was going to back down.

_You're so vain  
You probably think this song is about you  
You're so vain  
I'll bet you think this song is about you  
Don't you? Don't you?_

They knew the song was about each other, though. Who was vainer? The answer was always the other. Lizzie couldn't forgive Darcy's vanity any more than Darcy could understand hers. It was a stalemate.

_Well, I hear you went up to Saratoga  
And your horse naturally won  
Then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia  
To see the total eclipse of the sun  
Well, you're where you should be all the time  
And when you're not, you're with  
Some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend  
Wife of a close friend, _

_And_,  
_You're so vain  
You probably think this song is about you  
You're so vain  
I'll bet you think this song is about you  
Don't you? Don't you?_

Everything was silent. The last notes of the song disappeared. Lizzie blinked, as the bubble formed by the song vanished. Then her eyes widened. Why was she so close to Darcy? She could hear his breath. She could feel his gaze. His dark blue eyes still looked straight at her, as if the song hadn't finished yet. They were so similar…

A feeling of guilt fell over Lizzie like a thunderous waterfall. Lizzie couldn't breathe. How could she? How could she? Lizzie turned away from Darcy, unable to face him. She turned to the crowd, not looking at them.

Suddenly, the ballroom erupted as everyone clapped and cheered. Darcy blinked, realizing that he had come close to belting out the last chorus of the song. He'd only been looking at Lizzie. He'd only seen her and heard her voice. Nothing else had mattered during the minutes of the song. She'd challenged him, he remembered. She'd had that look, the look he remembered from nine years ago.

Lizzie wanted to run off the stage. She could still feel Darcy's gaze on her, as if he was boring two holes into her skull. Did he know? No, he couldn't. Shame crept into Lizzie's limbs. How could she lift her head, after what she had done? She'd done something terrible. But it was because of him. It all started with him. Right?

"Weren't they incredible, everyone?" hollered the MC, smiling widely, "Will we have another round of applause?"

The ballroom reverberated once more, making Lizzie wince. This was too much. Lizzie quickly passed her mike to the MC before she flew off the stage. She didn't care if everyone commented about it later. She just had to get away.

The bathroom. That's where she needed to go.

Lizzie could hear someone call her name over the cheers of the crowd, but she kept moving. She didn't stop until she was the under the harsh lighting of the ladies' bathroom. It was only then that Lizzie sighed, covered her face and leaned heavily on the basin.

"Lizzie, are you alright?" asked Jane, bursting into the bathroom.

Lizzie smiled up at Jane. It wasn't surprising that Jane had followed her.

"Nothing happened, Jane." replied Lizzie, "I'm not some bomb that would go off just because of…that."

Jane surveyed Lizzie quietly. An unreadable fire lit up Lizzie's eyes, but there was still a slight paleness to Lizzie's cheeks despite the rouge. What was she thinking? It was hard to tell, with only that little hint.

"I know. So how was your night?" Jane unsuccessfully tried to change the atmosphere. Lizzie's expression instantly adopted a smile, but it was obviously forced. Slowly, Lizzie's face darkened. Jane waited, knowing Lizzie was going to ask. Finally.

"Tell me what you discussed with him." murmured Lizzie, "I know I told you not to, but tell me."

Jane bit her lip lightly. How much of the conversation could she tell Lizzie?

"I asked him why. He said he wanted to show you that he had changed for the better. But he told me you'd slapped him. I told him it would be hard, because of the past. I didn't tell him everything, alright? But I said that there was far more than a sour break-up. I told him he has to understand that. And…Lizzie, I really think he's trying. He wants to become acquaintances. He wants a fresh start…"

Lizzie laughed humourlessly. She'd heard it all before. It didn't sound any more sincere the second time around, even though it came from Jane's mouth.

"Is that why he said I was the last girl in the world he'd ask to dance with?" asked Lizzie.

Jane frowned, "When did he say that?"

"Tonight. I heard him talking to your Charlie somewhere." replied Lizzie vaguely.

"When you eavesdrop, you don't always hear the nicest things," sighed Jane.

Lizzie opened her mouth to retort, but then the bathroom door swung open loudly and Charlotte walked in, looking rather flustered.

"I've been looking for you everywhere, Lizzie! And where do you turn up – in the _bathroom!_ Lizzie, you are _never _going to do that again." exclaimed Charlotte.

Lizzie grinned, "Don't worry. I don't think there's going to be a next time like this so soon."

"What are you talking about? The Christmas ball is just around the corner!"

Lizzie's eyes widened. If the Christmas ball was anything like this, she was definitely not going. No matter what Charlotte told her, she was not going. Lizzie wasn't even going to care about being blackmailed.

"Don't look like that. It doesn't have that stupid 'sing with the CEO' thing, alright?" reassured Charlotte tersely.

"I'm not saying anything definite." muttered Lizzie.

"Anyway, shall we get going?" interrupted Jane before Charlotte could reply, "I think the ball's over."

So it was. Everyone was drifting out of the doors, still chatting amongst each other. They were all smiling and laughing, with an air of satisfaction about them. The atmosphere was still so very jovial; so very dissimilar to Lizzie's mood. Why did she feel so drained?

"Come on Lizzie, let's go as well." murmured Jane.

Lizzie smiled weakly and followed Jane and Charlotte out of the bathroom.

So much for a happy Thanksgiving.

* * *

_FINALLY an update! And hopefully it was a good one too. Anyway, this will be it for a while - until after graduation. Then I'll be able to write more. _

_Thanks for reading!  
_


	7. The Art of Double Dating Part I

**The Art of Double Dating, Part I**

_So - hope everyone had a lovely Christmas! And Happy New Year to everyone, of course! Many thanks to your reviews for Chapter 6 as well! _

_And a very special thank you to Illusiional Ice who was so kind as to beta during the holidays. You're awesome!_

_On with the show...

* * *

_

_**Soundtrack:** Beautiful Girls – Sean Kingston _

_"_Oh I'm with my girl  
Who I thought was my world  
It came out to be  
That she wasn't the girl for me (girl for me)"

_

* * *

_

Something was whining strangely. Lizzie frowned. She didn't want to get up. Her body felt like lead and her bones felt like they had disintegrated during the course of the night. Stupid dancing. Stupid singing. Stupid Darcy.

The noise continued to whine even louder and crawled up an octave. Lizzie moaned and rolled over, pressing her face straight onto the pillow. Well, that wasn't a good move. She couldn't see even if she wanted to this way. Lizzie's head reeled as the sound from the unknown continued to shriek.

"Hello?"

That's what it was. Mustering all her energy, Lizzie managed to lift her head off her pillow and glare straight at Jane. Why someone was calling so early on a Sunday morning was beyond her. Minus the fact that it was eleven-thirty, that is.

"Oh, hey! No, no, it's all right. It's not too early."

Freaking hell, it _was_ too early. Lizzie was still in between a state of alertness and la-la land. But Jane's voice seemed so very happy and _awake_. How could Jane sound like that right after she woke up? If Lizzie had picked up the mobile, she would have muttered and moaned at the person even before she knew who it was. She wouldn't have even cared if it was someone important.

"Yeah, I got back safely, thanks. How about you? Okay, that's good. Busy? No, I'm not. No, Lizzie's not busy either. Oh, is that right? Really? That would be great! I'll ask Lizzie…wait a second."

What was this about? Lizzie flipped over again and pulled the doona over her head. Whatever Jane wanted to ask her could wait for a while unless Jane wanted to deal with a grumpy and sulky Lizzie. It was just far too soon for Lizzie to be asked anything.

Air gushed over Lizzie as the doona was instantly thrown off. Lizzie moaned, grappling blindly for the doona. The light was far too strong! It was too cold! Gosh, it was _winter _for goodness sake!

"Cold!" yelped Lizzie, curling up into a ball on the bed.

"Lizzie, one word is all I need. Charlie's just asked me to watch 'South Pacific' with him. He wants you to come too. Yes or no?" asked Jane, climbing onto Lizzie's bed with her mobile in hand.

"How loaded is this guy?" rasped Lizzie, voice still not functioning properly, "Anyway, I don't think you'll want me butting in the date."

"Well, this time's different. You wouldn't be butting in, Lizzie. Charlie asked you to come with us. He's just got some extra tickets and it would be a waste if he didn't use them. So please?"

"Sure he's 'just got some extra tickets.'." muttered Lizzie cynically, rolling over again. She didn't want to see Jane's pleading expression. It had the effect of making Lizzie do absolutely anything.

"Lizzie, why don't you just come with us? Deliberately or not, he still wants you to come." said Jane, "And I really want you to come too."

Lizzie glanced at Jane's reflection from the built-in's mirror. Jane looked so earnest and beseeching that Lizzie's objections dissolved. Lizzie sighed and covered her face with her pillow. Why had she looked at Jane? She knew she would give in if she did. Seriously, if Jane told someone to jump of a cliff, they probably would. Not that she would do such a thing, though.

"Fine. Yes, I'll go." mumbled Lizzie.

"Thanks, Lizzie! Here's your doona back."

Lizzie huffed in reply, mumbling something about doe-eyed sisters and their evil intentions. If Jane heard, she didn't respond.

"Yeah, she's coming. Oh right, you were listening. So, see you soon! Really? That's actually a great idea! See you in the afternoon, alright?"

Lizzie rubbed her eyes, wincing as she heard Jane's mobile snap shut. That sound was painful. And what was that slightly furry taste to her tongue? Had she been drinking? She had. Lizzie remembered the Zombie cocktail with revulsion. Well, that explained the groggy movement of her limbs and the slight pounding of her head.

Damn it. She hated hangovers.

With a sigh, Lizzie forced herself to sit up. At least the world wasn't spinning. But everything seemed extra bright and extra loud. Lizzie's stomach also gave a lurch in a protest that Lizzie barely managed to contain. She didn't wasn't in the mood of cleaning up the result.

This was one of the milder hangovers, too.

The bed wobbled as Jane stood up. Lizzie moaned as another wave of nausea passed over her. Lizzie was never, ever going to drink a Zombie cocktail again. Why had she drunk it anyway? Actually, forget that line of thought.

"Lizzie, are you alright?" asked Jane, concerned.

Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her roiling stomach to calm before she dared to answer. She didn't think Jane would appreciate being puked on otherwise.

"Hangover. Don't worry. A Panadol or two will do the trick." said Lizzie, attempting a smile. She failed miserably.

Jane didn't look at all convinced. Before Jane forced Lizzie to stay in bed, Lizzie pushed herself awkwardly off the bed and shuffled slowly to the kitchen. Funny - she had wanted sleep for a little longer but now she forced herself to get up — a rare event indeed. But Lizzie desperately needed a Panadol and coffee, or else she was going to implode.

Lizzie ignored Jane's repeated offers to help and slowly but surely managed to make coffee. She even salvaged a Panadol from her messy medicine cabinet and managed to pop a tablet out without splitting the whole pack in two or something of the sort.

"Coffee?" offered Lizzie. The mug held out by Lizzie looked in danger of tipping over.

Jane's look of concern was now an amused expression. Now there was even a hint of a repressed smile. What was so funny? There was nothing funny about a hangover. But then again, maybe watching a person hobble around like they were seventy was entertaining. Not that Lizzie was laughing.

"I take it you'll be functional this by this afternoon?" asked Jane.

Lizzie nodded slowly, drinking her coffee. The unpleasant pounding of her head had lessened and her stomach had finally stopped churning. Her limbs still felt heavy, but it was a good improvement from a few minutes ago. When the Panadol finally kicked in, Lizzie would be totally fine.

"I suppose." replied Lizzie indifferently, "So don't worry."

"That's encouraging." said Jane, still smiling worriedly.

A loud, raucous ringing suddenly began.

Lizzie gritted her teeth, reaching for the phone as quickly as possible before her headache returned again. Who was ringing now? Why was the world so bent on making Lizzie's already crappy Sunday worse?

"Hello?" muttered Lizzie.

"_Lizzie! You actually picked up! Oh my god. This happens what, one time out of a hundred?"_

She should have known it would be Lydia. Lizzie had wondered why she had heard so little from them for the past week. Now it seemed she was going to pay for her wondering.

"Lydia, this is probably not the best…"

"_What do you mean, Lizzie? There's no time like now! Last night we went to Sandra-Lee's party. Know what? Suzie Von Keppel is such a bitch! Do you know what she called Kitty? A dowdy wannabe! Can you believe that, Lizzie? Lizzie! Are you listening?"_

Lizzie winced as Lydia's voice increased by twenty decibels. She wasn't in the right state to be dealing with Lydia's phone call. If it ended well, it would be Lizzie yelling at Lydia to shut up and stop pestering her. Lizzie held the phone an arm's length away from her, ignoring the "Lizzie! Lizzie!" shouts and looked imploringly at Jane.

"Who?" mouthed Jane.

Lizzie thrust the phone to Jane. It was only a split second before realization dawned, followed by a soft "Oh. Right." Jane took up the phone slowly, grimacing slightly as the repeated yells of "Lizzie!" only grew louder. Seriously, did Lydia's throat ever hurt from screaming? It didn't seem like it.

"Hello Lydia. Yes, it's Jane."

Lizzie lifted a brow, hearing an ultrasonic shriek of _"Jane! You never told me you were going over to Lizzie's! Why didn't you come to Lesley College instead? My friends would have loved to meet you!"_

Lydia had never asked _Lizzie _to go visit her and Kitty at Lesley College. But then again, she didn't really want to anyway. Lizzie shuddered to even think about being introduced to Lydia's friends. What if they were even worse than Lydia?

They would be at a party three times or more each week and continuously complain about not being invited to some other party. They would date three guys simultaneously and complain about guys that refused to go out with them. Well, that pretty much described Lydia. How much worse could it get? It was probably best not to consider it.

"Oh, okay. So you will be going home for Thanksgiving? That's good to hear. See you soon, then." said Jane, looking overwhelmed.

"_WAIT! Carmel, she is a supermodel! Seriously! I'll prove it to you."_

Lydia's voice was loud enough to fill the whole apartment. Lizzie shook her head. The girl was far beyond simply lively; she was out of control. There wasn't much Lizzie could do over the phone, though. It wasn't like Lizzie wanted to try anyway.

"_Jane! Tell Carmel you're a supermodel!"_

Jane looked at Lizzie helplessly before staring at the phone like it would sprout fangs and bite her. Maybe it was time to save Jane from the ultrasonic screeching that emanated from the phone. Lizzie braced herself for another sharp stab at her eardrum and gingerly took the phone from Jane.

"Lydia, if you don't shut up I'm taking all the cranberry sauce this year!" yelled Lizzie into the phone.

There was a deathly silence. Lizzie smiled triumphantly. The cranberry sauce ransom trick always worked. Or not.

"_I can just get Mom to make some more. JANE! TELL CARMEL YOU'RE A SUPERMODEL!"_

Lizzie sighed, motioning for Jane to take the phone. Jane's eyes grew into glowing orbs that shone with panic. Lizzie lifted a brow, looking at Jane in exasperation. Why was it that Jane could handle walking down a two-metre wide catwalk with only the skimpiest lingerie in front of a crowd of a hundred, but not be able to handle Lydia? Then again, Lizzie could persuade and spin-doctor in a blink of the eye, and still be unable to get Lydia to shut up.

"Lydia, I'm pretty sure you'll find some way to convince this…Carmel that Jane is a supermodel. Now I'm going to hang up the phone, and you're not going to call me for the rest of this week. Did you get that? Good. Now, bye." said Lizzie firmly.

And despite the shouts of "Jane! JANE!" and other exclamations, Lizzie managed to place down the phone without a grimace. At least the quake was over. But the aftershocks seemed to have started – Jane's expression was fixed in a look of horror. Lizzie smiled grimly. This was what Jane had been saved from for the past year. It was amazing – and horrifying – what college could do to people, girls in particular. Not that Lydia and Kitty had ever been far from party girls anyway.

"Was that our sister?" whispered Jane.

"Fawn-eyed, shoulder length brown hair of streaked blonde – last time I saw her, that is – and a total party animal? Yep, that's her. Lydia Bennet." replied Lizzie dryly, "Aren't we just so proud of our little sis?"

Jane looked like she was lost for words.

"I've missed a lot this year, haven't I?" asked Jane sheepishly.

Lizzie merely smiled, and took a large swig from her coffee. And immediately winced. Perhaps it wasn't so smart to take a large gulp of hot coffee.

"Don't think that way." mumbled Lizzie after fanning her mouth, "You've been busy and that's all."

Busy was an understatement. Jane had made her big break into the modelling that year. She'd suddenly become the official face of Christian Dior in a week, with various other prestigious contracts to boot. Her sudden rise to modelling fame also meant an exponential rise in the number of shoots, appearances and shows. Jane's year had been so very hectic that she wondered how she had survived. But she had, with a new, flawless reputation and a ton of labelled clothes.

"I still feel like I've missed out on so much, Lizzie. I know I haven't been there enough for all of you. I don't even know how many emotional breakdowns Mom has had this year!"

Lizzie laughed at Jane's confused face. It had been a hard year with no Jane. She'd only heard from her once or twice per month. She hadn't felt neglected – no, Jane never made her feel that way – but she had felt slightly disconnected from Jane's fast moving life. So, while Jane was in Manhattan, she was determined to spend as much time as possible with her.

"There's been too many for me to count, actually. Know what? You're probably lucky you weren't there for them. But since there wasn't anyone she could complain to, Mom's breakdowns were incredibly mild this year." laughed Lizzie.

"Any chance of her having no breakdowns at all?" asked Jane, smiling.

"Now, now Jane. Is it right to take Mom away from her breakdowns?" asked Lizzie, shaking her head.

"Oh no, I wouldn't deny her of that!" laughed Jane.

And indeed they wouldn't. Cherry Bennet's excitable nature was much reason for exasperation and humiliation. But after living more than twenty years with it, the Bennet sisters not only tolerated it, but relied on it for some indication that everything was well and dandy. After all, a month – or even a week – without a meltdown signalled something strange, though maybe not necessarily something wrong.

Lizzie grinned as she felt the feelings of morning grumpiness. Coffee always helped to calm an upset stomach.

"Hey Lizzie, is this yogurt still edible?" asked Jane, pulling out the tub of yogurt in question from the fridge.

Lizzie shrugged. It looked fine to her. And it wasn't like something stupendously wrong was going to happen if her sister just ate the yogurt.

"You can't go wrong with the best before date!" replied Lizzie, grinning.

"Right." muttered Jane, looking for the date.

Lizzie watched as Jane fumbled with the yogurt tub, scrutinized the date printed on the plastic, and then took a few tentative scoops from the yogurt. She would have laughed, except for the plain look of "laugh and I'll kill you" printed clearly on Jane's face. Well, that was a new facet of Jane's personality. She'd never had a problem with Lizzie laughing at her eating before. It must have come from the stress of being a model.

"So when and where is the Broadway?" asked Lizzie, "Or is that going to be a torturous surprise?"

"Now Lizzie, how and why is this torturous in any shape or form?" laughed Jane.

"Me going to a fancy-pansy Broadway musical and not knowing when and where it is." stated Lizzie.

"But wouldn't it be cool if you did?" said Jane, smiling weakly.

Lizzie paused, eyeing Jane mischievously.

"You know what would be cool? Me turning up in my pyjamas and bed hair to a musical that probably has some of the most well-connected people in Manhattan attending. What do you think?" asked Lizzie, amused when Jane's expression clicked to horrified. Funny that Jane knew Lizzie would have no qualms actually carrying out her threat.

"Vivian Beaumont Theatre. Three o'clock this afternoon."

Lizzie tilted her head to read her Disney Princesses clock. 12:15. Time was ticking down already.

* * *

"What can I do to get you to go?"

A very exasperated looking Charles Bingley was pleading with a stony-faced Fitzwilliam Darcy. But Darcy was having none of it. He had never been a pushover – it would never do to be a softie in the corporate world – but he was even more bull-headed than usual.

"Charles, I've told you already. I'm not going. And you're not going to convince me to in the next three hours. So no, I am not going. Capiche?" said Darcy, glaring darkly at his friend.

Charles was silent. Darcy let himself breathe a silent sigh. He wasn't in the mood and that was that. But he didn't want to seem like a total mule to Charles, despite knowing that that was just what he seemed like just then. If Charles knew what was best for him, he would just let Darcy mope and let him be.

"Darcy, I'm begging one favour of you – one favour, that's all I ask! I will never, ever beg such a favour off you again. I promise. Come with me and Jane to 'South Pacific' and I will be indebted to you. Truly." said Charlie.

"Seriously Charles, why do you need me to go with you and _Jane _to a musical? You can handle dates just fine, last time I checked. Why do you need me there?" asked Darcy, flicking over the page of the Business and Financial news section in the New York Times.

Charlie paused, stopped his pacing around Darcy and sat down on an armchair.

"You're right. I don't really need you there. But you see, Jane is bringing her sister Lizzie…"

Charlie trailed off, darting a glance at Darcy's immediate reaction to 'Lizzie.' However, he was sorely disappointed; Darcy showed no reaction whatsoever to the name, though perhaps there was a little tightening of the jaw line. Then, an indescribable cloud of taciturnity seemed to overcome Darcy, making it impossible for Charlie to say anything further or even make a sound.

Darcy, in reality, was close to reliving last night's disastrous memories. The words in the newspaper was beginning to blur as his concentration slipped from the list of share prices to 'history repeating' mode. With another silent sigh, Darcy grabbed the remote control and switched on the television. Flicking through TV channels provided some diversion from his thoughts. Despite it being extremely uncharacteristic act that attracted strange stares from Charlie, that is.

"Darcy, Lizzie will be all alone. Why don't you go for her sake?" asked Charlie.

Darcy continued his channel surfing and didn't respond to Charlie's question. But he did jack up the TV's volume by ten levels.

Charlie didn't know whether to be annoyed or sympathetic. From what he'd learnt from Jane, Darcy and Lizzie had dated, broken up due to questionable actions on Darcy's behalf, and ended messily because of some sort of complication on Lizzie's side. It had been complicated and rather unpleasant, and Jane had pretty much refused to go into details. Not that Charlie wanted them anyway; matters of the private sort were never quite managed by Charlie. It left him with too many uncomfortable glances and nudges to deal with, as he'd found out in his sophomore year. He never fully recovered.

"Do you ever think of anyone – or _anything _– besides yourself?" asked Charlie loudly over the rumble of the TV.

The insult bounced off Darcy without inflicting any wound. Finally, Charlie snatched the remote from Darcy and turned off the TV. An instant silence fell over the penthouse – the calm before the storm.

"Charles, give me the remote." said Darcy, hand out.

"So you can degenerate your eyes and ears faster? No." replied Charlie.

"Have it your way."

Darcy flipped open the newspaper once more, forcing himself to concentrate on the numbers and figures on the page. But that was rather hard with Charlie breathing down his neck. Darcy groaned after two minutes of silence and turned around to face a disgruntled Charlie.

"So Miss Bennet's coming." stated Darcy unnecessarily.

"Yes," said Charlie slowly, "Lizzie's coming with Jane. And it would be good if she had a companion aside from Jane and me."

"She'd be the third wheel otherwise, you mean." replied Darcy, a hint of a smile finally appearing on his morose face.

"I wouldn't say that," said Charlie, blushing slightly, "But…will you go so a poor, potentially lonely girl would not be poor and potentially lonely?"

Darcy lifted a brow at the way Charlie put it. Lizzie would never let herself succumb to "loneliness" of any degree. She always found a way to amuse herself. But Charlie was pouting like a little girl, and half of Darcy's disagreements with the plan had simply fallen of a (hypothetical) cliff during his little tantrum with the TV. Still, that didn't mean that Darcy was going to give in so easily.

"You make her sound like a damsel in distress." muttered Darcy.

"Who said she isn't?" asked Charlie, grinning, "Why don't you save her?"

Darcy rolled his eyes. Lizzie Bennet was as far from being a damsel in distress as New York was from Helsinki. But while that comparison lasted…

"There's nothing to save_, _Charles." replied Darcy dryly.

"On the contrary, I believe there is _everything _to save. Don't you think this is a good opportunity to apologize for yesterday's disgrace?"

"I think it's more like a good recipe for disaster." said Darcy.

Charlie frowned. Perhaps Darcy was right. But he had to try one last tactic.

"Maybe I'll ask Larry to come instead. She seemed pretty good friends with him." wondered Charlie, sitting in the armchair again.

Those two sentences sealed Darcy's decision. He knew he was probably going to regret it – a lot – later.

"I'm feeling chivalrous then. But let this be on your head if she doesn't want to be saved!" said Darcy hastily, walking away. It was time he tended to the rebellious stubble on his chin.

His very reflection, however, seemed to accuse him of a gross misjudgement. Lizzie wouldn't want him as her companion. So why had he just agreed to go? But he just couldn't bring himself to walk back to the lounge room and tell Charlie that he wasn't going. Why couldn't he?

With a sigh, Darcy picked up the razor and shaving cream, distracting himself from his thoughts by trying to make sure that he didn't cut himself. And a half hour later, he was proud to have no cut to show, but mortified to discover his thoughts had drifted into dangerous territory once more.

Last night's accusations hit Darcy over the head again like a metal racket. But they were wrong. They had to be. But something still stopped Darcy from looking at his reflection right in the eye.

Darcy angrily pushed the thoughts away. What was done was done. There was nothing he could do about it now. People changed. The accusations could not apply anymore. It was outdated, irrelevant and ultimately irrational. The situation was completely different from the one nine years ago.

Wasn't it?

Darcy glared at the wash basin, ruffling his hair until it stood up defiantly. Even after nine years, Lizzie Bennet still had the ability to baffle him completely.

"Hey Darcy, are you done yet?" called Charlie.

Finally, Darcy glared straight at his reflection, and then walked back to the lounge room – to find his sofas covered by an overflow of suits, shirts and pants. Darcy's mouth flew open and he glowered at Charlie pointedly. Charlie merely grinned.

"You don't mind, hey? So – what should I wear to the Broadway?" asked Charlie.

"Are you a man?" muttered Darcy, clearing a space for himself on a sofa.

"I'll ignore that comment, because I know you don't intend to hurt my feelings. Come on, red shirt or green shirt?"

Darcy dug his head into a cushion in exasperation.

"The one that's least hideous," barked Darcy into the cushion.

There was a pause, a swishing of clothes, and then silence. Darcy lifted his head tentatively, wondering what Charlie had decided to do. If he looked absolutely hideous – well, there was always Mrs Reynolds to help. That woman worked wonders, without the chattiness that seemed to come hand in hand with the female sex when it came to clothes and fashion.

"You know Darce, if I actually let you choose, you'd let me out of this door looking like a harlequin." laughed Charlie as he watched a disgruntled Darcy lift his head from the cushion.

"I never pretended to be a fashion guru, Charles." said Darcy coolly.

Charlie merely laughed.

"Yeah, because then people would question which way you swing. And oh no, the great Fitzwilliam Darcy can't have his masculinity questioned, eh?"

Darcy glared darkly at Charlie and opened his mouth to retort. Even if Charles Bingley was a tub of goodwill, it didn't make his light teasing any easier to bear.

"Darce, _lighten up. _You've been looking like someone spat into your breakfast cereal for a day and a half now. Sure, Lizzie heard you insult her and didn't look too happy – and you ended up singing with her…"

"And yet you force me to go to the Broadway as her companion." said Darcy sharply.

"No one can force you to do anything, as you very well know." pointed out Charlie, "I know you want to go."

"I wouldn't push it if I were you, Bingley." snapped Darcy.

At the sound of his surname, Charlie immediately closed his mouth and stared at Darcy. It was only in times of extreme annoyance or importance that Darcy used Charlie's last name to address him. Charlie had hit a very tender nerve. But he'd been knocking on the very same nerve for the better half of the past hour, and yet Darcy hadn't used Charlie's surname until right then. Perhaps Darcy was learning to control himself – though it was a little late.

Darcy frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He didn't want to grouch and wallow in self-pity, but he was doing it. And that certainly wasn't going to win back any favour in an hour's time. So Darcy concentrated on shunting his thoughts into a more stable and coherent order behind the screen of the very same New York Times page, which occupied him until half an hour to three.

And then he suddenly found himself merely two hundred metres away from the theatre, still unprepared for a meeting which he had convinced himself to be his doom. It was undoubtedly going to one long, painful process.

Then he caught sight of her.

Lizzie stood waiting uncomfortably next to Jane, waiting for Charles Bingley to show up so that they could go in and find their seats. She'd agreed grudgingly to go and now she was seriously reconsidering it. Sure, this was probably an once-in-a-lifetime experience (after all, who could go and see 'South Pacific' whenever they wanted?) but a part of Lizzie just wanted to run back home and read a magazine – or something just as daft and pointless. But at least her hangover had cleared up.

Or maybe not.

"Jane, tell me I'm hallucinating." whispered Lizzie.

"Why?" asked Jane, confused.

Lizzie nudged Jane in the direction of the two approaching figures and watched in half horror and half amusement as Jane stiffened and stared back at Lizzie.

"I wasn't part of this." whispered Jane, seeing the murderous glint in Lizzie's hazel eyes.

"So I'm not hallucinating?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Damn." muttered Lizzie.

"Actually, Charlie did say he was bringing a companion," said Jane softly, "but I never thought…"

"And you never thought to _tell _me Charlie was bringing someone?" cut in Lizzie, slapping her forehead.

Jane shrugged apologetically, then plastered on a smile as the two men walked up the stairs. Lizzie rolled her eyes and followed Jane's lead as best she could. Though perhaps the twitching of the left side of her mouth gave her away…

Darcy had better be wearing shin pads.

* * *

_I know, I know, a bit of a cliffy - but it was going to be too long if I didn't cut it off here. But Part II is in the works now, so it should be done soon (fingers crossed). What did you think of this chapter, though? All thoughts appreciated! _

_Once again, Happy New Year everyone!  
_


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